Henry Seton Merriman

“ In his agony he had grasped the bell with his right hand, and his rigid fingers still held to the handle. He was crucified face foremost against the door.”
There was a pause, and the fair man looked round with his grave smile, which was, curiously enough, no longer meaningless and placid, but very wise with the Wisdom of Life, and not of Books.
“And so,” he said, “my hand is haunted. It sometimes wakes up at night grasping a chain in a tangle of warm and dripping seaweed!” ”

“ Like cats, four pairs of hands pounced upon the hand and arm, holding it against the woodwork, while the grey fingers worked convulsively. We drew the arm through—right up to the shoulder; and they held it in place while I made fast the stout dog-leash to the two bolts of the knocker which jutted out at the top of the door.
“‘A neat job!’ said the chief, as we stood back and contemplated the twitching white arm. ‘A very neat job. There is no hurry,’ he added, beginning leisurely to unchain the door. ”

“ After trying several keys, the idea of opening the door by unlocking it was apparently abandoned. Presently the evil-looking point of a centre-bit emerged from the woodwork of the massive panel with a sound like a dog eating biscuits. The chief motioned us to stand aside, for it was only natural to suppose that an eye would be applied to the hole when completed. Owing to the thickness of the woodwork the limit of vision through the aperture could only be small, and by crouching down we easily made ourselves invisible. ”