Chapter XX.The Room of the VoicesStruck dumb with amazement, I stood like a rat in a trap, and waited patiently for some explanation of the voice I had heard. But when it came again, a moment later, I could not repress a start of amazement and awe, for, though I was alone in the room, the voice seemed to come from only a couple of feet in front of me.“I asked you whether you had enjoyed your evening?”If it was ventriloquism, it was the most marvelous example of it that I had ever heard. And I put out my hands helplessly, with the wild thought of some arrangements of mirrors behind which the speaker was sheltered. But there was nothing there; nothing but the empty room.“You do not answer?” came the voice again. “Well, it does not matter. We have done our best to make you at home at all events. And now there is a little reckoning to pay.”Though the voice was chilled and dehumanized in a queer way, I thought I recognized the intonation. It was Ivanovitch again. In a moment he confirmed this.“I thought we should meet again to-night, my friend, although you have not made any effort to find me. But it does not matter. We are forced to dispose of you, my dear Clayton, in any case. But you are to be greatly honored. Our Chief will speak with you himself in a moment. I believe he intends to give you the choice of the manner in which you will leave us. That is a great concession, my friend. I hope you appreciate it.”“I don’t know whether you can hear me or not,” I answered in a loud voice. “But I wish to goodness you’d appear. What on earth is all this nonsense about anyway? I felt a little faint and came out of my room in search of an attendant. And I’ve been looking for one ever since. And why am I locked in?”Then close to my ear I heard a laugh, the weirdest sound in the world when there was no one there. “I can hear you perfectly, my dear fellow, and you are as amusing as ever. If you searched for an attendant, surely you found one, eh? And I meant to ask you—did you enjoy your little chat with your sister?”Standing motionless in the room, I ground my teeth, but tried to give no outward sign that the shot had gone home. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ivanovitch, but this joke has gone far enough. Let me out, will you?”I knew that it was hopeless, although I was determined to try to the end. But hope nearly left me when he spoke again.“Come, come, Clayton, this is too bad of you! Why do you suppose the child was beaten to-night, if not to attract your attention and make you talk, so that we could verify our impressions of you? And why do you suppose the door into this passage was locked the first time and so conveniently unlocked the second, if not to guide you here? But enough of this nonsense. Our Chief is here now and will speak to you. It will be better if you listen.”Again I stood and waited, and this time there came to may ears a voice that struck chill to my heart in spite of me. For it was as inhuman, as cold, as relentless as the sea. Of one thing I was certain, it was the voice of a man, but a man far removed from the usual run of mortals. There was an immense pride in it and an immense sense of power. But to my straining ears it did not sound the voice of a man who was entirely sane.“Clayton,” it said, “I have heard much of you of late—too much. You have interfered with my affairs unwarrantably and to my inconvenience. Therefore you are to die.” There was a little pause here. “One of my lieutenants has begged me for your life, however, and while I will not grant that, you may choose the manner of your death. In a moment or so you will be asleep. When you wake one of my lieutenants will see you and hear your wishes. That is all.”The voice ceased and left me standing alone in a bare room, fear and despair in my heart and cold sweat on my face. For there was a power of doom, of finality, about this voice that carried more terror and more conviction than my waning courage could stand.But it did not matter. For though I was entirely alone and I could detect no change in the room nor in the air I breathed, my thoughts drew inward slowly, the walls of the room seemed to withdraw to an immeasurable distance, and in a moment my legs gave way under me and I sank to the floor. For a little more, consciousness of my surroundings seemed to flicker dimly, and then I plunged into the darkness of complete oblivion.I have no exact means of telling how long it was before I came to my senses again. I only know that one moment I was not, and the next I was dimly aware of myself. I was in complete darkness now, but the air of my room was fresh with the out-of-doors.I turned my head slowly. Then I sat up. My thoughts were suddenly extraordinarily clear and I felt no pain of any kind. Evidently the gas, or whatever it was with which they had put me to sleep, had no bad after-effects. At all events I felt none.I was suddenly aware that I was looking through a barred window and that the stars shone through it. And with this sight came the realization of a queer feature of this place into which I had ventured. For since I had entered it, this was the first window I had seen. With some difficulty, for I was a little weak, I struggled to my feet and caught hold of the bars to look out. There was no glass in the window and the night air came through it, cool on my face. I took in deep breaths of it. And suddenly the despair which had settled about my heart with returning consciousness lifted a little. At all events I was still alive and had my ring.I felt for it. It was still on my finger and the safety catch was still open. It was lucky that I had not stabbed myself with it in falling.Then I began to explore the place.It was a small bare room, with one door of heavy metal bars. There was only one window and there was no furniture of any kind. Of course the door was locked, but I fumbled in my pocket and found a match, lighting it to have a look at the lock. For my little file was in my pocket, of course.Suddenly I regretted lighting the match. It might have been seen and I wanted time, for I had determined at once to saw through the thinner bars of the window.I felt in my pocket. The little box containing the tiny file was gone!It was the cruelest blow of all, and for a moment, I confess, I gave way to despair. Then slowly courage returned, and I strode to the door again. The lighted match had shown me a queer scene between the bars of my door and I wanted to have another look at it, if only to keep my mind occupied while I waited for death. For at last I felt that I was to die.By the flickering light of the match I saw a strange thing indeed. The room beyond was a much larger one. It had two windows in it, but it was entirely unfurnished except for the extraordinary contrivance in the center of the floor.Lighting one match after another, I made out the general aspect of this contrivance. But I was very far from being able to explain it. Clearly it had to do with electricity, for six thick iron pillars standing about eight feet high were equipped with heavy wires which ran to a big machine set against the wall and boxed in.But these pillars were in a circle about ten feet in diameter, and it was the queer affair at the center of this circle that drew my attention most. By the light of several matches I made out that it was some sort of cylinder, about three feet in diameter, open at the top and bottom, and with a hinged doorway about a foot wide. This cylinder was about eight feet high, and both the cylinder and the door in it seemed to be made out of some sort of semi-opaque material that looked like Venetian glass.A network of wires ran to it from the six pillars and seemed to be welded into the surface of it. It looked for all the world like some sort of an electrical bath, I thought.But my last match burned my fingers before I could make out anything further about it, and I sat down to wait for what was to come with as much resignation as I could muster. At all events I still had my ring. And if I could not escape, I could perhaps take some toll from my enemies before I died. I said my enemies, but it was Ivanovitch that I wanted to kill. The veneer of civilization is thin, I found, for after what he had done to Margaret I could contemplate killing him in cold blood quite calmly.And it was Ivanovitch who came!The first hint I had of the presence of any one besides myself was the sudden glare of electric lights in the room beyond the cell in which I stood. I went softly to the barred door and looked through it. Two men had just entered through a door at the other side of the larger room. As they came from behind the glass cylinder I saw that one of them was Ivanovitch. The other, a lowering fellow with the face of a peasant, I had not seen before.In the bright light I took a hasty glance at my surroundings while they came toward me. And I started with surprise, for all of the house I had seen was built with the very height of luxury, and here the floors and walls were of rough stone! Was I in the same house at all?But I had time for no close inspection, for Ivanovitch walked straight up to my door, pressed a switch at the side of it and flooded my own cell with sudden light. “Well, Clayton,” he began, with his cold smile, “the best of friends must part, and you and I are no exception, it seems. I have come to find out your wishes in the matter.”I stared back at him, my mind working like lightning. This was my last chance, of that I felt sure, and if I were still to win out, I must meet guile with guile. It was my only hope, faint as it was.I went slowly up to the door and took hold of the bars. “My God, Ivanovitch,” I cried in a broken voice, “what have I ever done to you, that you should want to kill me?”The man gave a bark of a laugh and the peasant with him looked up and leered at my tone. “I have nothing against you, man,” he laughed. “But the Emperor has. You have interfered with his plans—and that is very dangerous.”“The Emperor!” I cried weakly.Ivanovitch glanced over his shoulder. “Merely a fancy of our Chief’s, Clayton. Come, how do you wish to die?”“I can’t believe you mean that, Ivanovitch. Surely there is some way that I can get you to spare my life!” I said: “I have money and will give it all to you. I will join your organization, anything.”He laughed again. “We are singing a different tune now, eh?” He took from his pocket one of the air revolvers that I had seen before and fitted it into the palm of his hand. Then he turned to the other and spoke to him in Russian. The fellow straightened up with another leer, drew a heavy revolver from his pocket and pointed it at me. Then he leaned back against the wall again, crossing his feet.Ivanovitch drew a key from another pocket and fitted it into the lock of my door. My heart leaped with hope, but I still turned upon him a woebegone face and shrank back into the cell as though in terror.The door swung open. “Come out,” said Ivanovitch contemptuously. “I won’t hurt you—either now or later. But I have orders to show this little plaything to you and see if you prefer that way. Come out, I say!”I drew away from the far wall of my cell and crept through the doorway like a dog with his tail between his legs. Nevertheless, the Russian retreated before me, keeping his distance warily. When the door of my cell had closed behind me I drooped against the wall of the outer room and stood waiting. “What—what are you going to do to me?” I begged. I hated myself in doing it, but it was for the sake of the others, and I had shown my hand too often in the past. To quiet his fear of me was my only hope of getting near him. The other Russian was still covering me with the heavy revolver, and Ivanovitch left me and went to the boxed-in machine. He pulled over a switch or something on the side of it—and instantly the room was filled with a blinding glare of light. But such light! It glowed now green, now purple, now crimson, until I half closed my eyes to shut out the brightness of it. It came from the cylinder in the center of the room, and the latter glowed iridescent with all the colors of the spectrum, like a living thing from some celestial sphere. I could only look at it for a moment, and the others too were shading their eyes. At the same time I was conscious of an intense heat from the cylinder.I was dimly aware that Ivanovitch was speaking. The other man handed him the cap he wore, and Ivanovitch stepped forward and flung it into the top of the cylinder. Then he stepped over and turned off the switch again and the glare faded slowly and went out.“You see?” he said to me, pointing to the thing.I looked at the floor within the cylinder where the cap must have fallen. There was nothing there.“It is a quick and painless death,” laughed Ivanovitch. “And it has its advantages from our standpoint also, for it leaves no trace!”I sank down on the floor against the wall. “My God, you can’t kill me like that. You can’t kill me so soon. Only give me a chance, man! I’ll do anything you say!”Ivanovitch was losing patience. He strode over to me. “If you do not choose the manner of your death and choose now, into that cylinder you will go by force. The Emperor has promised you the choice of your death, and it is his whim to keep his promises. If you do not choose, why——” He shrugged his shoulders. “But if you choose now, you can die in any way you please: drugs, shooting, this machine, drowning, suffocation, what you will. Now choose!”“I will not choose,” I cried. “Give me a little time, only a little time——”Ivanovitch ripped out an oath and stooped over me. He caught me under the arms and lifted me to my feet, and at the same moment I brought up my hand and pressed the face of the ring into his wrist sharply.He jumped back with a snarl and fumbled at the pocket into which he had slipped the air revolver. Then his hands flew to his throat, and into his face came a terrible look of comprehension. I saw that he was struggling to speak, and stepped forward just as the other Russian straightened up with a glance of sudden suspicion and raised his heavy revolver.“Come and help me,” I said breathlessly, for Ivanovitch had begun to sag at the knees. “Something has happened to Ivanovitch!”The man came forward at that in a shambling run to look at his master, lowering the revolver as he ran. He came to my side, still trying to see the face of Ivanovitch. When he saw it he put out his hand to help me support him, and with a quick movement I pressed the top of the ring into the back of his hand too. He snatched it away, but he was slower of comprehension; for his hands went to his throat, and he stood swaying for a moment before he turned to me. I dropped Ivanovitch on the floor at that and caught at the big revolver. But there was little need. An instant longer the fellow swayed in my grasp, and then he, too, crumpled at the knees and fell, his face contorting into a mask of feat and agony.I turned back to Ivanovitch. The man lay where I had dropped him, his eyes glazing, but with the light of consciousness and comprehension still in them. As I watched I saw this light gradually fade out of them, and suddenly they rolled up under the lids and his quivering body lay still. I turned back to his servant. He, too, was still quivering, but as I looked, a last tremor went through him and he also lay still. I was alone. And in that moment I knew that the fates were with us and that we should succeed.But there was much to be done yet. Others might come at any moment and I had still to escape.I stooped over the body of Ivanovitch, found the air revolver and slipped it into my pocket. Then, leaving them where they lay, I walked to the door of the room, switched out the lights, opened the door and went out. I had walked out under the open sky!In the faint starlight I could make out the shadowy forms of trees and bushes all around me. A little way off loomed the bulk of a huge house. I turned away from it, leaving the path that connected it with the stone house in which I had been imprisoned, and struck off through the trees to find a way out.There was light enough to see faintly where I was walking and to make out the outlines of things close at hand. But I was afraid of detection by some guard who might be prowling about the place, and I stuck closely to the shadow of the trees wherever I could. And at last, keeping in a straight line, by looking over my shoulder at the bulk of the house as long as I could see it, I came to the thing I sought. It was a brick wall, at least ten feet high and perfectly smooth.Close by, however, a big tree stretched its branches over the wall. If I could climb it I could let myself down on to the top of the wall and so drop down on the other side.I went to the tree and looked up, and at the same moment a hand fell on my shoulder and a voice spoke at my ear. The words were Russian and I could not understand them. But the man’s presence and action were clear enough and this was no time for parley. I turned quickly and struck him in the face with the hand on which I wore the ring. He gave a hoarse cry and staggered back, and I swung myself up into the tree and began to climb.By feeling my way carefully I managed to get out on a limb that overhung the wall. My weight made it sag until I could step off on to the wall. Here with the limb still in my hands I looked down.The ring had not yet lost its effectiveness; for in the starlight I could make out the body of a man, prone on the ground beneath me, his face turned up to the sky.And so I released the branch, scrambled down the outer side of the wall until I was hanging by my hands, and let go, landing with a thud on the soft ground at the foot of the wall.I was free!
Struck dumb with amazement, I stood like a rat in a trap, and waited patiently for some explanation of the voice I had heard. But when it came again, a moment later, I could not repress a start of amazement and awe, for, though I was alone in the room, the voice seemed to come from only a couple of feet in front of me.
“I asked you whether you had enjoyed your evening?”
If it was ventriloquism, it was the most marvelous example of it that I had ever heard. And I put out my hands helplessly, with the wild thought of some arrangements of mirrors behind which the speaker was sheltered. But there was nothing there; nothing but the empty room.
“You do not answer?” came the voice again. “Well, it does not matter. We have done our best to make you at home at all events. And now there is a little reckoning to pay.”
Though the voice was chilled and dehumanized in a queer way, I thought I recognized the intonation. It was Ivanovitch again. In a moment he confirmed this.
“I thought we should meet again to-night, my friend, although you have not made any effort to find me. But it does not matter. We are forced to dispose of you, my dear Clayton, in any case. But you are to be greatly honored. Our Chief will speak with you himself in a moment. I believe he intends to give you the choice of the manner in which you will leave us. That is a great concession, my friend. I hope you appreciate it.”
“I don’t know whether you can hear me or not,” I answered in a loud voice. “But I wish to goodness you’d appear. What on earth is all this nonsense about anyway? I felt a little faint and came out of my room in search of an attendant. And I’ve been looking for one ever since. And why am I locked in?”
Then close to my ear I heard a laugh, the weirdest sound in the world when there was no one there. “I can hear you perfectly, my dear fellow, and you are as amusing as ever. If you searched for an attendant, surely you found one, eh? And I meant to ask you—did you enjoy your little chat with your sister?”
Standing motionless in the room, I ground my teeth, but tried to give no outward sign that the shot had gone home. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ivanovitch, but this joke has gone far enough. Let me out, will you?”
I knew that it was hopeless, although I was determined to try to the end. But hope nearly left me when he spoke again.
“Come, come, Clayton, this is too bad of you! Why do you suppose the child was beaten to-night, if not to attract your attention and make you talk, so that we could verify our impressions of you? And why do you suppose the door into this passage was locked the first time and so conveniently unlocked the second, if not to guide you here? But enough of this nonsense. Our Chief is here now and will speak to you. It will be better if you listen.”
Again I stood and waited, and this time there came to may ears a voice that struck chill to my heart in spite of me. For it was as inhuman, as cold, as relentless as the sea. Of one thing I was certain, it was the voice of a man, but a man far removed from the usual run of mortals. There was an immense pride in it and an immense sense of power. But to my straining ears it did not sound the voice of a man who was entirely sane.
“Clayton,” it said, “I have heard much of you of late—too much. You have interfered with my affairs unwarrantably and to my inconvenience. Therefore you are to die.” There was a little pause here. “One of my lieutenants has begged me for your life, however, and while I will not grant that, you may choose the manner of your death. In a moment or so you will be asleep. When you wake one of my lieutenants will see you and hear your wishes. That is all.”
The voice ceased and left me standing alone in a bare room, fear and despair in my heart and cold sweat on my face. For there was a power of doom, of finality, about this voice that carried more terror and more conviction than my waning courage could stand.
But it did not matter. For though I was entirely alone and I could detect no change in the room nor in the air I breathed, my thoughts drew inward slowly, the walls of the room seemed to withdraw to an immeasurable distance, and in a moment my legs gave way under me and I sank to the floor. For a little more, consciousness of my surroundings seemed to flicker dimly, and then I plunged into the darkness of complete oblivion.
I have no exact means of telling how long it was before I came to my senses again. I only know that one moment I was not, and the next I was dimly aware of myself. I was in complete darkness now, but the air of my room was fresh with the out-of-doors.
I turned my head slowly. Then I sat up. My thoughts were suddenly extraordinarily clear and I felt no pain of any kind. Evidently the gas, or whatever it was with which they had put me to sleep, had no bad after-effects. At all events I felt none.
I was suddenly aware that I was looking through a barred window and that the stars shone through it. And with this sight came the realization of a queer feature of this place into which I had ventured. For since I had entered it, this was the first window I had seen. With some difficulty, for I was a little weak, I struggled to my feet and caught hold of the bars to look out. There was no glass in the window and the night air came through it, cool on my face. I took in deep breaths of it. And suddenly the despair which had settled about my heart with returning consciousness lifted a little. At all events I was still alive and had my ring.
I felt for it. It was still on my finger and the safety catch was still open. It was lucky that I had not stabbed myself with it in falling.
Then I began to explore the place.
It was a small bare room, with one door of heavy metal bars. There was only one window and there was no furniture of any kind. Of course the door was locked, but I fumbled in my pocket and found a match, lighting it to have a look at the lock. For my little file was in my pocket, of course.
Suddenly I regretted lighting the match. It might have been seen and I wanted time, for I had determined at once to saw through the thinner bars of the window.
I felt in my pocket. The little box containing the tiny file was gone!
It was the cruelest blow of all, and for a moment, I confess, I gave way to despair. Then slowly courage returned, and I strode to the door again. The lighted match had shown me a queer scene between the bars of my door and I wanted to have another look at it, if only to keep my mind occupied while I waited for death. For at last I felt that I was to die.
By the flickering light of the match I saw a strange thing indeed. The room beyond was a much larger one. It had two windows in it, but it was entirely unfurnished except for the extraordinary contrivance in the center of the floor.
Lighting one match after another, I made out the general aspect of this contrivance. But I was very far from being able to explain it. Clearly it had to do with electricity, for six thick iron pillars standing about eight feet high were equipped with heavy wires which ran to a big machine set against the wall and boxed in.
But these pillars were in a circle about ten feet in diameter, and it was the queer affair at the center of this circle that drew my attention most. By the light of several matches I made out that it was some sort of cylinder, about three feet in diameter, open at the top and bottom, and with a hinged doorway about a foot wide. This cylinder was about eight feet high, and both the cylinder and the door in it seemed to be made out of some sort of semi-opaque material that looked like Venetian glass.
A network of wires ran to it from the six pillars and seemed to be welded into the surface of it. It looked for all the world like some sort of an electrical bath, I thought.
But my last match burned my fingers before I could make out anything further about it, and I sat down to wait for what was to come with as much resignation as I could muster. At all events I still had my ring. And if I could not escape, I could perhaps take some toll from my enemies before I died. I said my enemies, but it was Ivanovitch that I wanted to kill. The veneer of civilization is thin, I found, for after what he had done to Margaret I could contemplate killing him in cold blood quite calmly.
And it was Ivanovitch who came!
The first hint I had of the presence of any one besides myself was the sudden glare of electric lights in the room beyond the cell in which I stood. I went softly to the barred door and looked through it. Two men had just entered through a door at the other side of the larger room. As they came from behind the glass cylinder I saw that one of them was Ivanovitch. The other, a lowering fellow with the face of a peasant, I had not seen before.
In the bright light I took a hasty glance at my surroundings while they came toward me. And I started with surprise, for all of the house I had seen was built with the very height of luxury, and here the floors and walls were of rough stone! Was I in the same house at all?
But I had time for no close inspection, for Ivanovitch walked straight up to my door, pressed a switch at the side of it and flooded my own cell with sudden light. “Well, Clayton,” he began, with his cold smile, “the best of friends must part, and you and I are no exception, it seems. I have come to find out your wishes in the matter.”
I stared back at him, my mind working like lightning. This was my last chance, of that I felt sure, and if I were still to win out, I must meet guile with guile. It was my only hope, faint as it was.
I went slowly up to the door and took hold of the bars. “My God, Ivanovitch,” I cried in a broken voice, “what have I ever done to you, that you should want to kill me?”
The man gave a bark of a laugh and the peasant with him looked up and leered at my tone. “I have nothing against you, man,” he laughed. “But the Emperor has. You have interfered with his plans—and that is very dangerous.”
“The Emperor!” I cried weakly.
Ivanovitch glanced over his shoulder. “Merely a fancy of our Chief’s, Clayton. Come, how do you wish to die?”
“I can’t believe you mean that, Ivanovitch. Surely there is some way that I can get you to spare my life!” I said: “I have money and will give it all to you. I will join your organization, anything.”
He laughed again. “We are singing a different tune now, eh?” He took from his pocket one of the air revolvers that I had seen before and fitted it into the palm of his hand. Then he turned to the other and spoke to him in Russian. The fellow straightened up with another leer, drew a heavy revolver from his pocket and pointed it at me. Then he leaned back against the wall again, crossing his feet.
Ivanovitch drew a key from another pocket and fitted it into the lock of my door. My heart leaped with hope, but I still turned upon him a woebegone face and shrank back into the cell as though in terror.
The door swung open. “Come out,” said Ivanovitch contemptuously. “I won’t hurt you—either now or later. But I have orders to show this little plaything to you and see if you prefer that way. Come out, I say!”
I drew away from the far wall of my cell and crept through the doorway like a dog with his tail between his legs. Nevertheless, the Russian retreated before me, keeping his distance warily. When the door of my cell had closed behind me I drooped against the wall of the outer room and stood waiting. “What—what are you going to do to me?” I begged. I hated myself in doing it, but it was for the sake of the others, and I had shown my hand too often in the past. To quiet his fear of me was my only hope of getting near him. The other Russian was still covering me with the heavy revolver, and Ivanovitch left me and went to the boxed-in machine. He pulled over a switch or something on the side of it—and instantly the room was filled with a blinding glare of light. But such light! It glowed now green, now purple, now crimson, until I half closed my eyes to shut out the brightness of it. It came from the cylinder in the center of the room, and the latter glowed iridescent with all the colors of the spectrum, like a living thing from some celestial sphere. I could only look at it for a moment, and the others too were shading their eyes. At the same time I was conscious of an intense heat from the cylinder.
I was dimly aware that Ivanovitch was speaking. The other man handed him the cap he wore, and Ivanovitch stepped forward and flung it into the top of the cylinder. Then he stepped over and turned off the switch again and the glare faded slowly and went out.
“You see?” he said to me, pointing to the thing.
I looked at the floor within the cylinder where the cap must have fallen. There was nothing there.
“It is a quick and painless death,” laughed Ivanovitch. “And it has its advantages from our standpoint also, for it leaves no trace!”
I sank down on the floor against the wall. “My God, you can’t kill me like that. You can’t kill me so soon. Only give me a chance, man! I’ll do anything you say!”
Ivanovitch was losing patience. He strode over to me. “If you do not choose the manner of your death and choose now, into that cylinder you will go by force. The Emperor has promised you the choice of your death, and it is his whim to keep his promises. If you do not choose, why——” He shrugged his shoulders. “But if you choose now, you can die in any way you please: drugs, shooting, this machine, drowning, suffocation, what you will. Now choose!”
“I will not choose,” I cried. “Give me a little time, only a little time——”
Ivanovitch ripped out an oath and stooped over me. He caught me under the arms and lifted me to my feet, and at the same moment I brought up my hand and pressed the face of the ring into his wrist sharply.
He jumped back with a snarl and fumbled at the pocket into which he had slipped the air revolver. Then his hands flew to his throat, and into his face came a terrible look of comprehension. I saw that he was struggling to speak, and stepped forward just as the other Russian straightened up with a glance of sudden suspicion and raised his heavy revolver.
“Come and help me,” I said breathlessly, for Ivanovitch had begun to sag at the knees. “Something has happened to Ivanovitch!”
The man came forward at that in a shambling run to look at his master, lowering the revolver as he ran. He came to my side, still trying to see the face of Ivanovitch. When he saw it he put out his hand to help me support him, and with a quick movement I pressed the top of the ring into the back of his hand too. He snatched it away, but he was slower of comprehension; for his hands went to his throat, and he stood swaying for a moment before he turned to me. I dropped Ivanovitch on the floor at that and caught at the big revolver. But there was little need. An instant longer the fellow swayed in my grasp, and then he, too, crumpled at the knees and fell, his face contorting into a mask of feat and agony.
I turned back to Ivanovitch. The man lay where I had dropped him, his eyes glazing, but with the light of consciousness and comprehension still in them. As I watched I saw this light gradually fade out of them, and suddenly they rolled up under the lids and his quivering body lay still. I turned back to his servant. He, too, was still quivering, but as I looked, a last tremor went through him and he also lay still. I was alone. And in that moment I knew that the fates were with us and that we should succeed.
But there was much to be done yet. Others might come at any moment and I had still to escape.
I stooped over the body of Ivanovitch, found the air revolver and slipped it into my pocket. Then, leaving them where they lay, I walked to the door of the room, switched out the lights, opened the door and went out. I had walked out under the open sky!
In the faint starlight I could make out the shadowy forms of trees and bushes all around me. A little way off loomed the bulk of a huge house. I turned away from it, leaving the path that connected it with the stone house in which I had been imprisoned, and struck off through the trees to find a way out.
There was light enough to see faintly where I was walking and to make out the outlines of things close at hand. But I was afraid of detection by some guard who might be prowling about the place, and I stuck closely to the shadow of the trees wherever I could. And at last, keeping in a straight line, by looking over my shoulder at the bulk of the house as long as I could see it, I came to the thing I sought. It was a brick wall, at least ten feet high and perfectly smooth.
Close by, however, a big tree stretched its branches over the wall. If I could climb it I could let myself down on to the top of the wall and so drop down on the other side.
I went to the tree and looked up, and at the same moment a hand fell on my shoulder and a voice spoke at my ear. The words were Russian and I could not understand them. But the man’s presence and action were clear enough and this was no time for parley. I turned quickly and struck him in the face with the hand on which I wore the ring. He gave a hoarse cry and staggered back, and I swung myself up into the tree and began to climb.
By feeling my way carefully I managed to get out on a limb that overhung the wall. My weight made it sag until I could step off on to the wall. Here with the limb still in my hands I looked down.
The ring had not yet lost its effectiveness; for in the starlight I could make out the body of a man, prone on the ground beneath me, his face turned up to the sky.
And so I released the branch, scrambled down the outer side of the wall until I was hanging by my hands, and let go, landing with a thud on the soft ground at the foot of the wall.
I was free!