“I know, I know,” said Endor.
“Moreover, the task falls upon you. And the means are in your hands. Nothing could be simpler or easier than what you have now to do. Will you not help us all by fulfilling your oath?”
“That’s quite impossible,” said Endor. “No one could welcome the limiting of the Society’s functions more earnestly than myself, but rather than take the life of another, in such circumstances, I am fully prepared to take my own.”
“All of us,” said Hierons, “are particularly anxious that your life shall not be sacrificed. We recognize that in the immediate future it is likely to be of signal use to the world. But, unhappily, there can be no going back on the Society’s laws. The Council of Seven is bound to insist that its decree be carried out within the time appointed.”
“Not by me,” said Endor, flatly. “That cannot be. And, as I say,” he added, “I am quite ready to accept the alternative. It is no more than a just penalty for tampering with forbidden things.”
“Don’t forget that the world can ill spare you.”
“If that is a true estimate of one’s worth, it is for the Council of Seven not to forget it.”
Hierons glanced furtively at Helen, who stood pale and rigid, a figure of tragedy. The silence which ensued was painful to all three. And then Hierons said suddenly, “Tell me, where do you keep the phial that was given you by Lien Weng?”
“There, my friend.” With a cool laugh that had a note of defiance, Endor pointed to a safe at the other end of the room. “That is the only place for such a diabolical contrivance. No wonder,” he added, “that the Society of the Friends of Peace has been able to give the police cold feet.”
Hierons agreed. “But please,” he said, “do it the justice of remembering that in the first instance it was formed to meet the situation to which this and kindred discoveries have given rise. And please remember, also, that we of the white races, although this particular discovery is not really ours, are determined to the utmost of our power to keep it under strict control.”