made for the purpose which he supposed; and the thieves
must have succeeded in their errand. The blind man, in his uselessness
for pursuit, could delay calling others to act for him no longer. He
started toward the bell, when some scrape on the floor--not of the sort
to be accounted for by an object moved by the wind--sounded behind him.
Santoine swung toward the sound and stood listening again; and then,
groping with his hands stretched out before him, he left the wall and
stepped toward the center of the room. He took two steps--three,
four--with no result; then his foot trod into some fluid, thick and
sticky and not cold.

Santoine stooped and put a finger-tip into the fluid and brought it
near his nose. It was what he supposed it must be--blood. He raised
his foot and with his great toe traced the course of the blood; it led
to one side, and then the blind man's toe touched some hard, metal
object which was warm. He stooped and picked it up and felt over it
with his fingers. It was an electric torch with the light turned on.
Santoine stood holding it with the warm end--the lighted end--turned
away from him; he swiftly switched it off; what put Santoine at a
disadvantage with other men was light. But since there had been this
light, there might be others; there had been at least three men,
perhaps, therefore, three lights. Santoine's senses could not perceive
light so dim and soft; he stood trying fruitlessly to determine whether
there were other lights.

He could hear now some one breathing--more than one person. From the
house, still shut off by its double, sound-proof doors, he could hear
nothing; but some one outside the house was hurrying up to the open
window at the south end of the room.

That one came to, or just inside the window, parting the curtains. He
was breathing hard from exertion or from excitement.

"Who is it?" Santoine challenged clearly.

"Basil!" Blatchford's voice exclaimed his recognition in amazement.
"Basil; that is you! What are you doing down here?" Blatchford
started forward.

"Wait!" Santoine ordered sharply. "Don't come any further; stand
there!"

Blatchford protested but obeyed. "What is it? What are you doing down
here, Basil? What is the matter here? What has happened?"

"What brought you here?" Santoine demanded instead of reply. "You were
running outside; why? What was out there? What did you see?"

"See? I didn't see anything--except the window h