"You lie--here are three!"
The two men turned round with a cry, and there, on the threshold of the room stood May Penfold with a look of triumph in her eyes--and behind, Dowker and Norwood. Ellersby saw he was lost, and with a harsh shriek made a bound for the door of the library; but before he could reach it Balscombe threw himself on him and bore him to the ground. The two men rolled on the floor fighting desperately, and then Dowker joined in to assist in securing Ellersby, when suddenly his struggles ceased and he became quite passive.
"It's all over," he said quietly, with a livid face, as Balscombe arose to his feet. "I will escape you yet."
"You will not escape the gallows," cried Balscombe, panting.
"Yes, I will," sneered Ellersby, with a ghastly smile; "and by your own act. You forgot you had the poisoned arrow-head in your hand, and you have wounded me--see."
He held up his right hand and there they saw a long red ragged wound where the weapon had torn him.
"In ten minutes I will be a dead man," he said quietly. "Not all the science in the world can save me now."
"Curse it!" cried Dowker in a rage, while the other three remained silent with horror.
"Ah! you are angry at my escaping from you," said Ellersby, with his usual cynicism. "Console yourself, my astute thief-catcher, my capture would not have redounded to your credit as you were quite on the wrong scent. You suspected Desmand, Calliston, Lena Sarschine and Balscombe; everyone but the right one. I have fooled you to the end, and, now I am caught, will yet escape your clutches."
May Penfold stepped towards him.