Quest spent the next hour or so in restless deliberations. There were still many things which puzzled him. At about a quarter past nine Lenora and Laura arrived, dressed for their expedition. Quest threw open the window and looked out across the city. A yellowish haze which, accompanied by a sulphurous heat, had been brooding over the city all day long, had suddenly increased in density. The air was stifling.
“I’m afraid we are in for a bad thunderstorm, girls,” Quest remarked.
Laura laughed.
“Who cares? The automobile’s there, Mr. Quest.”
“Let’s go, then,” he replied.
They descended into the street and drove to the Professor’s house in silence. Even Laura was feeling the strain of these last hours of anxiety. On the way they picked up French and a plain-clothes man, and the whole party arrived at their destination just as the storm broke. The Professor met them in the hall. He, too, seemed to have lost to some extent his customary equanimity.
“Come this way, my friends,” he invited. “If Craig keeps his word, he will be here now within a few minutes. This way.”
They followed him into the library. Chairs were arranged around the table in the middle of the room, and they all sat down. The Professor took out his watch. It was five minutes to ten.
“In a few minutes,” he continued solemnly, “this weight is to be lifted from the minds of all of us. I have come to the conclusion that on this occasion Craig will keep his word. I am not sure, mind, but I believe that he is in the house at this present moment. I have heard movements in the room which belonged to him. I have not interfered. I have been content to wait.”
“At least he has not tried to escape,” Quest remarked. “French here brought news of him. He has been living with his niece very quietly, but without any particular attempt at concealment or any signs of wishing to leave the city.”