"Look out!" shouted Teddy, and sprang forward—too late.
"Till the clock stops," said Bullard in a thick voice, and fired at it.
Then he flung the pistol behind him and grinned.
Teddy secured Guidet just in time, and a silence fell that seemed to last for minutes.
The bullet, having made a starry hole in the glass, had pierced the face an inch below its centre, and as the company stared, the pendulum shuddered and fell with a little plash into the green liquid.
A wild cry came from the Frenchman—"Miracle!"—and he fell to hugging poor Caw.
As though the others had ceased to exist, Bullard strode forward. Now his countenance was congested, his eyes glazed. "The diamonds!" he muttered. "Where are the—"
He stopped short, as did Alan and Teddy, who had started to intercept him,—stopped short, as did every other human movement in that room at the sound of a voice—a voice emanating from no person present.
Far and faint it sounded, but distinct enough for the hearing of all.
"Do not be alarmed," it said, and paused.
And Bullard was ghastly again, and Lancaster gasped and shivered and put his hands to his face. Marjorie caught Doris's hand, and Caw tried to rise. The others stared at the clock.