"What has occurred is most unfortunate. I had no hand in it, though, of course, I do not expect anyone to believe me."
Here Ashton-Kirk drew a note book from his pocket and was about to write, but the other stopped him with a gesture. Then the man once more wrote; carefully, heavily, in order that the other might have no difficulty in reading it from the distance.
"Pardon me! But it is not necessary for you to go to any trouble. Moreover—I beg of you not to think me rude—your opinions in the matter have no interest for me."
Ashton-Kirk acknowledged this with a grave nod. The pencil was instantly at work again.
"As I have said, I expected a visitor; but I will now add that I did not expect to be here to receive him."
Ashton-Kirk looked swiftly into Locke's face as he read this; the expression was unmistakable, and the investigator leaped to his feet. But the mute uttered a strange parrot-like cry—evidently the same that Edyth heard that night in Christie Place—and Ashton-Kirk saw his hand go swiftly to a button at one side of the work-bench. Instantly the investigator paused; once more a gesture bade him be seated.
Slowly he obeyed; and once more Locke began to trace bold characters upon the stiff paper. This message read:
"You are a wise man. I had arranged everything before you came in, and had sat down to make an end of it. This button at my hand once started an electric apparatus; but now it is connected with a quantity of an explosive—my own invention, and a terrible one. Believe me, one touch and everything in this building is in fragments."
Ashton-Kirk, when he had finished reading, nodded quietly. Again the mute began to write.
"I have no ill will toward you," the words ran, "you have two minutes to leave here, and get safely away."