this hitherto
inviolable repository of his uncle's secrets, and, inserting the key he
carried, threw back the massive door.

One glance showed him the thing he sought. Lying in solitary state upon
the highest shelf was a heavy book bound in white leather. The edges of
the cover were worn yellow with time and use, and from the centre of the
binding gleamed the familiar octagonal symbol exquisitely wrought in
gold and jewels. With hands that trembled slightly he lifted the book
from its place, closed and locked the door of the safe, and,
extinguishing the lamp, left the room.

In the flood of unreasoning rage and thwarted hope that surged about
him, he had no definite plan regarding the object in his hand. He only
knew, by the medium of instinct, that through it he could strike a blow
at the uncle who had excluded him from his just inheritance--at the
crazy scheme by which he had been defrauded of his due.

With hasty steps he mounted the stairs and re-entered the bedroom. To
his agitated mind it seemed but just that, whatever his vengeance, it
should be accomplished in the grim, unconscious presence of the dead
man.

Stepping into the room, he paused and looked about him, seeking some
suggestion. As he stood there, his eyes, by a natural process of
inspiration, fell upon the fire that glowed and crackled in the grate;
and with a sharp, inarticulate sound of satisfaction he strode forward
to the hearth, knelt down, and prepared for his work of destruction.

[Illustration: "HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO HIS
FINGERS"]

As he crouched over the flames a fresh gale swept inland from the sea,
seizing the house in its fierce embrace; and the red tongues of fire
leaped up the chimney in the instant answer of element to element.

Instinctively he bent forward, opened the book and gathered the first
sheaf of leaves into his fingers. Then, involuntarily, he paused, as the
bold characters of the printed words shot up black and clear in the
fierce glow.

Almost without volition he read the opening lines:

"Out of obscurity will He come. And--having proved Himself--no man
will question Him. For the Past lies in the Great Unknown. By the
Scitsym--from which none but the Chosen may read--will ye know Him;
and, knowing Him, ye will bow down--Mystics, Arch-Mystics, and
Arch-Councillor alike. And the World will be His. For He will be
Power made absolute!"

"For he will be Power mad