without it."

Never was vengeance more terrible than that of the dead Robert
Emmerson.

The wonder was that Hunston lived through it.

His constitution must have been of iron.

The arm was removed, but only with infinite trouble and suffering; and
then, after some considerable time, Hunston began to experience a faint
sense of relief.

The sufferings slowly diminished.

This convinced Hunston that he had been correct in supposing that the
poison was concealed in the mechanical arm.

He laid bare as much of it as he could without permanently damaging it,
and pored over it for hours at a stretch.

To what good?

None.

Now this limb was the work of no common artificer.

It was the work of a hand of rare cunning.

A master spirit had invented it, and its mystery was far too deep to be