Then suddenly remembering her companion and their problem, she touched her arm as she whispered:
“Look! Is that tall book second from the end on the shelf with the vacant space the Portland chart book?”
Florence pressed her face to the glass and peered for the first time into the room of mysteries. For a full two minutes she allowed the scene to be photographed on the sensitive plates of her brain. Then turning slowly away she whispered:
“Yes, I believe it is.”
They were just thinking of seeking a place of greater safety when a footstep sounded on the pavement close at hand. Crouching low they waited the stranger’s passing.
To their consternation, he did not pass but turned in at the short walk which led up to the cottage.
Crouching still lower, scarcely breathing, they waited.
The man made his way directly to the door. After apparently fumbling about for an electric button, he suddenly flashed out an electric torch.
With an inaudible gasp Florence prepared to drag her companion out of their place of danger. But to their intense relief the man flashed the light off, then gave the door a resounding knock.
That one flash of light had been sufficient to reveal to Lucile the features of his face. She recognized it instantly. In her surprise she gripped her companion’s arm until she was ready to cry out with pain.