“This, I may state, is a condescension on my part,” remarked Palermo, addressing Harry Vincent. “My experiments are usually conducted in the laboratory. I shall begin here. However, when your turn comes, Hassan and I will move you back to the laboratory.”
While the Arab was attaching a lamp to Burke’s stretcher; Doctor Palermo walked across the room and closed the French doors. He came back and helped Hassan wheel a small motor from the elevator.
The Arab closed the tapestries. Doctor Palermo adjusted the lamp and turned it on, so that it threw a glare upon the white features of Clyde Burke.
Palermo removed his red robe and donned one of yellowish white. The Chinese chamber began to take on the aspect of an operating room.
Harry shuddered. He did not know in which guise Palermo appeared more terrible.
“I might mention one fact,” came Palermo’s voice. “We shall not be disturbed here. So if you have any other friends”—he looked at Harry as he spoke—”do not count on their help.
“I told you once that this was my Gibraltar. I have arranged it so that no elevator can come to this floor.
There is no possible chance of an entry.
“Those lights”—he pointed to a board that was inconspicuous upon the wall—”are now set to notify me of any annoyance. Only when I leave the way open does any person enter here.
“Here we are forty stories above Manhattan. So you may prepare yourself for the same fate that Burke will meet.”