From the machinery room in which the caretaker had been imprisoned came a slight thumping sound.
“What was that?” Hank demanded suspiciously.
“I didn’t hear anything,” answered one of the other men. “Maybe it was someone at the door.”
Hank tramped across the room to peer out into the night. As the door swung back, a dark figure moved swiftly along the hedge, crouching low.
“Who’s there?” Hank called sharply.
“Quiet, you fool!” was the harsh response.
A man wearing a dark robe and a black hood which completely hid his face, brushed past Holloway, and entered the Tower living room.
“Close the door!” he ordered.
Holloway hastened to obey. An expectant and rather tense silence had fallen upon the men gathered in the room.
“Now what is the meaning of this?” the Master demanded, facing the group. “Who called this meeting?”