and as Smith sprang upright in bed, eyes wildly glaring, I wrenched
with all my might. Upward my gaze was set; and I glimpsed a yellow
hand, with long, pointed finger nails. There came a loud resounding
snap; an electric spark spat venomously from the circular opening
above the bed; and, with the cord and lamp still fast in my grip, I
went rolling across the carpet--as the other lamp became instantly
extinguished.

Dimly I perceived Smith, arrayed in pyjamas, jumping out upon the
opposite side of the bed.

"Petrie, Petrie!" he cried, "where are you? what has happened?"

A laugh, little short of hysterical, escaped me. I gathered myself up
and made for the lighted sitting-room.

"Quick, Smith!" I said--but I did not recognize my own voice. "Quick--
come out of that room."

I crossed to the settee, and shaking in every limb, sank down upon it.
Nayland Smith, still wild-eyed, and his face a mask of bewilderment,
came out of the bedroom and stood watching me.

"For God's sake what has happened, Petrie?" he demanded, and began
clutching at the lobe of his left ear and looking all about the room
dazedly.

"The Flower of Silence!" I said; "some one has been at work in the top
corridor.... Heaven knows when, for since we engaged these rooms we
have not been much away from them ... the same device as in the case