In his own room, Paget turned out the light before retiring, and stared through the open window. He saw the watchman pass in his patrol of the grounds. Then his eyes were disturbed by the sight of a long shadow that lay across the lawn.
It reminded him of the shadow that he had seen in that squalid room in the house near Lexington Avenue.
Paget watched the shadow intently for several minutes. He shrugged his shoulders and was about to leave the window, when he fancied he saw the shadow move. He continued watching, but detected no further motion.
“A shadow,” murmured Paget, as he left the window. “Only a shadow — but a shadow may mean — some one. Well, there’s a cure for everything — including shadows.”
He was thinking of the Silent Seven. As yet, he had tested only a portion of their power. Should this strange shadow prove the presence of an enemy, an appeal to Number One would defeat the foe.
What was the power of a shadow compared with that of the Silent Seven!
CHAPTER XIII. VISITOR AT NIGHT
IT was one o’clock in the morning. Two men were sitting in the library of Wilbur Blake’s home. One was Rodney Paget; the other was the man who looked like Wilbur Blake.
Paget was deep in thought. He lacked his customary indifference. Blake’s double was eyeing him curiously. At length he spoke to Paget.
“About time we called it a night, eh, Rodney?” he asked.