Grail took a step forward, but halted as he saw no one there. Before he could turn, however, he was dealt a stunning blow over the head. He reeled, threw up his hands to clutch vainly at the air, then felt himself falling, and knew no more.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A MEETING.
As Meredith Vedant had halted, fear-stricken, paralyzed with terror at her startling discovery in the lonely attic, a sudden flash of lightning from the rising storm blazed down through the windows overhead, and for a second illuminated the face of the prostrate prisoner.
It was Ormsby Grail![{43}]
Instantly her trepidation, the swooning weakness she had felt coming over her, was gone, swallowed up, like her feminine apprehensions in coming to the place, in a greater emotion.
He was in danger. He was bound and helpless. He needed her aid. Hurriedly she flung herself down beside him, and wrenched away the gag from his lips, meanwhile calling on him breathlessly to tell her what had happened.
But he made no answer. His head rolled from side to side at her touch.
She drew back with a gasp. Was he dead? But no; a long-drawn sigh, and the beating of his heart as she laid her ear to his chest, reassured her on that point.
Still, he was insensible, injured—perhaps fatally. He must have proper aid and attention at once; and where could she get it in this house, which was only too evidently dominated by his enemies and hers?
For a moment her head drooped helplessly; then, with quick recollection, she sprang to the wireless instrument.