Also you forget that you have lost
your freedom."
Paul Harley offered no further answer to the speaker concealed
behind the violet curtain.
"Do not misunderstand us," the voice continued. "We bind you to
nothing but silence."
"I refuse," said Harley, sharply. "Dismiss the matter."
"In spite of your refusal, time for consideration will be given
to you."
Faintly Paul Harley detected the sounds made by Ormuz Khan and
his secretary in withdrawing. The light beneath the curtain
disappeared.
For perhaps a space of two hours, Paul Harley sat smoking and
contemplating the situation from every conceivable angle. It was
certainly desperate enough, and after a time he rose with a weary
sigh, and made a second and more detailed examination of the
several apartments.
It availed him nothing, but one point he definitely established.
Escape was impossible, failing outside assistance. A certain
coldness in the atmosphere, which was perceptible immediately
beneath the barred window, led him to believe that this
communicated with the outer air.
He was disposed to think that his unconsciousness had lasted less
than an hour, and that it was still dark without. He was full of
distrust. He no longer believed his immediate death to have been
decided upon. For some reason it would seem that the group wished
him to live, at any rate, temporarily. But now a complete theory
touching the death of Sir Charles Abingdon had presented itself
to his mind.
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