on the light again until the officials had been called in to repair the
damage. At the same moment, Gurdon rose to his feet and crept quietly in
the direction of the door. Here, at any rate, was a chance of escape, for
that his life was in dire peril he had felt for some little time. He had
hardly reached the doorway when he felt a slim hand touch his, and he was
guided from the room into the passage beyond. He could give a pretty fair
idea as to the owner of the slim fingers that trembled in his own, but he
made no remark; he allowed himself to be led on till his feet stumbled
against the stairs.

"This way," a voice whispered. "Say nothing, and make no protest. You
will be quite safe from further harm."

Gurdon did exactly as he was told. He found himself presently at the top
of a staircase, and a little later on in a room, the door of which was
closed very quietly by his guide.

"I think I can guess who I have to thank for this," Gurdon murmured. "But
why did you not take me to the front door, or the back entrance leading
to the garden? It was lucky for me that the lights failed at the critical
moment--a piece of nominal good fortune, such as usually only happens in
a story. But I should feel a great deal safer if I were on the other side
of the front door."

"That is quite impossible," Vera said, for it was she who had come to
Gurdon's rescue. "Both doors are locked, and all the rooms on the
ground floor are furnished with shutters. As to the light going out, I
am responsible for it. I learned all about the electric light when I
lived in a mining camp in Mexico. I had only to remove one of the lamps
and apply my chisel to the two poles, and thereby put out every fuse in