The inky blackness fell upon the room with palpable suddenness––like a blinding flash, numbing for a moment the senses of all who had been taken by surprise. The reflex of the shock was manifested in a very babel of incoherent shouts, jostlings and stumblings and sharp collisions with the furniture.
“Turn up the lights,” shouted Captain Stone, amid the tumult.
Travers Gladwin made a blind dive toward the wall and stumbled headlong over the great antique chest which stood to one side of where he and the thief had stood contemplating “The Blue Boy.” In stumbling against the chest he felt something that was a revelation to him by the time he found the switch button and brought back a flood of light.
“Quick, men, cover the doors––don’t let any one get out,” yelled Captain Stone, pivoting on his heel as his eyes vainly sought the picture expert.
“He’s gone!” cried Kearney.
“Yes, up the stairs––I hear him,” yelled Gladwin. “There are two back stairways and the roof. There 248 are two basement exits––post your men out there, and down through that hallway on the left––the panel door––that leads to the kitchen. Barnes, you and Bateato take the young lady up to my study––quick!––I’ll look after this room.”
The most remarkable thing about it was that every command the young man shouted was obeyed. Even Kearney was fooled and rushed headlong up the stairs, followed by two policemen and Barnes, who was yelling: “Hey! come back here and unlock me! How can I hunt that chap with these handcuffs on?”
He might as well have appealed to the moon.
Bateato fairly dragged Helen up the stairs after him and guided her to the magnificently furnished study and den to the right of the staircase, when he switched on the lights and became furiously active in the interest of the young girl’s comfort.
Captain Stone had rushed out into the street and posted men on the stoop and at the basement exits; then, followed by the last lone patrolman of his squad, he darted through the alley at the side of the mansion which led to the rear yard.