ist.

"The end of our struggle, I presume?" he said to Quest, pointing to the
metal band. "You will at least admit that I have shown you fine sport?"

No one answered him. Even Quest had barely yet recovered himself. The
Professor shrugged his shoulders.

"I recognise, of course," he said gravely, "that this is the end. A person
_in extremis_ has privileges. Will you allow me to write just a matter of
twenty lines at your desk?"

Silently Quest assented. The Professor seated himself in the swing chair,
drew a sheet of paper towards him, dipped the pen in the ink and began to
write. Then he turned round and reached for his own small black bag which
lay upon the table. Quest caught him by the wrist.

"What do you want out of that, Professor?" he enquired.

"Merely my own pen and ink," the Professor expostulated. "If there is
anything I detest in the world, it is violet ink. And your pen, too, is
execrable. As these are to be the last words I shall leave to a sorrowing
world, I should like to write them in my own fashion. Open the bag for
yourself, if you will. You can pass me the things out."

Quest opened the bag, took out a pen and a small glass bottle of ink. He
handed them to the Professor, who started once more to write. Quest
watched him for a moment and then turned away to French. The Professor
looked over his shoulder and suddenly bared his wrist. Lenora seized her
employer by the arm.

"Look!" she cried. "What is he going to do?"

Quest swung round, but he was too late. The Professor had dug the pen into
his arm. He sat in his chair and laughed as they all hurried towards him.
Then suddenly he sprang to his feet. Again the change came into his face
which they had seen in the mirror. French dashed forward towards him. The
Professor snarled, seemed about to spring, then suddenly once more
stretched out his hands to show that he was helpless and handed to Quest
the paper upon which he had been writing.

"You have nothing to fear from me," he exclaimed. "Here is my last message
to you, Sanford Quest. Read it--read it aloud. Always remember that this
was not your triumph but mine."

Quest held up the paper. They all read. The Professor's letters were
carefully formed, his handwriting perfectly legible.

"You have been a clever opponent, Sanford Quest, but even now
you are to be cheated. The wisdom of the ages outreaches yours,
outreaches it and triumphs."

Quest looked up quickly.

"What t