"That is all very well," Rigby argued. "But supposing that you were engaged upon some secret process which you did not want anybody to know anything about. And, besides, Anstruther is quite a genius in his way, and there is no reason why he should not be engaged upon inventing some new process of lithography."
"In that case," Jack said, "is it not a strange coincidence that they should be manufacturing these Nostalgo posters? I grant you that Anstruther is absolutely a genius, but his talents always take a sinister bent; in fact, I don't think the fellow could be honest if he tried. Still, we have plenty of time to find out."
"Do you really think that is paper?" Rigby asked. "It looks to me like it."
"It looks to me like it, too," Jack said; "but we shall have to possess our souls in patience."
"Hang me if I don't go and see," he said. "No, I don't see that there is any great danger unless they should happen to turn up the light again, and I do not suppose they will do that until the experiment is finished."
"For goodness' sake, do nothing rash," Jack implored. "From what we have already seen, we have to do with a gang who would not hesitate to cut our throats if it served their purpose."
The thing, after all, was not so hazardous as Jack had imagined. Just for an instant, as if by accident, one of the shaded electrics on the wall flashed out in a pin-point of diamond light.
"You clumsy fool!" growled the man behind the lantern. "What did you do that for? You might have spoilt all my work by your blundering folly."
The erring workman grunted out something in the way of an apology and a promise that he would be more careful in the future. Here, then, was Rigby's opportunity. He knew now that there was no likelihood of the light being turned on again for some time to come. All he had to do, therefore, was to creep cautiously, wriggling like a snake across the floor, until he could touch the huge screen and ascertain whether it were paper or cloth.
He took a penknife from his pocket and opened a small blade. So dense was the darkness of the room by contrast with the vivid lane of light thrown upon the screen that the journey was practically devoid of peril, so long as no one touched the switch of the electrics. Therefore Rigby crept along, his nerves braced to the highest tension and an exhilarating sense of danger strong upon him. He could see now that the white sheet extended from floor to ceiling, the edges of it seeming black and firm like an iron plate in contrast with the brilliant white centre.