From the divan, through half-closed eyes, he examined every inch
of the walls, seeking for the spy-hole through which he knew
himself to be watched. He detected it at last: a little grating,
like a ventilator, immediately above him where he sat. This
communicated with some room where a silent watcher was constantly
on duty!
Paul Harley gave no sign that he had made this discovery. But
already his keen wits were at work upon a plan. He watched the
bar of light fading, fading, until, judging it to be dinner time,
he retired discreetly.
When he returned, he found dinner spread upon the table.
He wondered for what ordeal the neophyte was prepared in this
singular apartment. He wondered how such neophytes were chosen,
and to what tests they were submitted before being accepted as
members of the bloodthirsty order. He could not even surmise.
Evidently no neophyte had been accepted on the previous night,
unless there were other like chambers in the house. The occupants
of the shuttered cars must therefore have been more advanced
members. He spent the night in the little cell-like bedchamber,
and his second day of captivity began as the first had begun.
For his dinner he had eaten nothing but bread and fruit. For his
breakfast he ate an egg and drank water from the tap in the
bathroom. His plan was now nearing completion. Only one point
remained doubtful.
At noon the voice again addressed him from behind the gilded
screen:
"Mr.
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