"What does it mean, uncle?" the young man asked at length.
"I cannot tell you," Ralph replied. His tones were hard and cold. "There are certain things no mortal can understand unless——; but I must not go into that. It may be that you have touched the fringe of the mystery——"
"I am certain that we are on the verge of a discovery!" Geoffrey cried eagerly. "I am sure that stuff those strangers were making was the same as the drug or whatever it was that came so near to making an end of my grandfather. If I knew what to do!"
"Nothing—do nothing, as you hope for the future!"
The words came hissing from Ralph's lips. He felt his way across to Geoffrey and laid a grip on his arm that seemed to cut like a knife.
"Forget it!" he whispered. "Fight down the recollection of the whole thing; do nothing based upon your discovery. I cannot say more, but I am going to give you advice worth much gold. Promise me that you will forget this matter; that you will not mention it to a soul. Promise!"
Geoffrey promised, somewhat puzzled and dazed. Did Ralph know everything, or was he as ignorant as the rest?
"I will do what you like," said Geoffrey. "But it is very hard. Can't you tell me a little more? I am brave and strong."
"Courage and strength have nothing to do with it. A nation could do nothing in this case. I am going to London to-day."
"You are going to London alone?"