It was because of his intentness that Stanley Wilberton did not see the door open. When he glanced in that direction, he was startled to see a tall man standing there.
The visitor was a most amazing figure. He appeared to be a mass of shadowy darkness that towered before the door. A long black cloak draped from his shoulders. Upon his head was a hat with turned-down brim. Not a sign of his features showed beneath that brim.
Wilberton stared.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “Why are you here?”
“I bring a message!” said the man in black. “A message for Howard Griscom!”
WHEN he heard his name, Griscom looked up. The sepulchral tones of the voice startled him.
“I am Howard Griscom,” he said automatically.
“Your daughter is safe,” said the man in black. “By now, she has returned to her home.”
A gasp of relief came from Griscom’s lips.
Wilberton stared at the man in black, as though doubting his reality.