Then he proceeded to grope upon the grass with those long restless fingers. He picked up a charred stick or two, smelt it, and shook his head. Presently his hand closed upon the burnt fragments of a gourd. As Ralph raised this to his nostrils his eyes gleamed.
"I was certain of it," he muttered. "Two of the Bonzes have been here, and they have been making the pi. If I could only see!"
As yet he had not heard of Geoffrey's singular discovery. There had been no favorable opportunity of disclosing the secret.
Ralph retraced his steps moodily. For the present he was helpless. He had come across the clue to the enigma, but only he knew of the tremendous difficulties and dangers to be encountered before the heart of the mystery could be revealed. He felt cast down and discouraged. There was bitterness in his heart for those who had deprived him of his precious sight.
"Oh, if I could only see!" he cried. "A week or month to look from one eye into another, to strip off the mask and lay the black soul bare. And yet if the one only guessed what I know, my life would not be worth an hour's purchase! And if those people at the castle only knew that the powers of hell—living, raging hell—were arrayed against them! But they would not believe."
An impotent sigh escaped the speaker. Just for the moment his resolution had failed him. It was some time before he became conscious of the fact that some one was dogging his footsteps.
"Do you want to see me?" he demanded.
There was no reply for a moment. Abell came up cautiously. He looked around him, but so far as he could see he and Ravenspur were alone. As he caught sight of the latter's face he had no ground for further doubt.
"I did want to see you and see you alone, sir," Abell replied. "I believe I have the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Ralph Ravenspur?"
"The same, sir," Ralph said coldly. "You are a stranger to me."