Silhouetted against the faintly luminous background I saw a hunched, unnatural figure. The real was more dreadful even than the imaginary—for some stray beam of light touched into cold radiance a huge curved knife which the visitant held between his teeth!
My fear became a madness, and I twisted my body violently in a wild endeavour to free myself. A dreadful pain shot through my left shoulder, and the whole nightmare scene—the thing with the knife at the window—the low-ceiled room-began to fade away from me. I seemed to be falling into deep water.
A splintering crash and the sound of shouting formed my last recollections ere unconsciousness came.
I found myself lying in an armchair with Bristol forcing brandy between my lips. My left arm hung limply at my side and the pain in my dislocated shoulder was excruciating.
“Thank God you are all right, Mr. Cavanagh!” said the inspector. “I got the surprise of my life when we smashed the door in and found you tied up here!”
“You came none too soon,” I said feebly. “God knows how Providence directed you here.”
“Providence it was,” replied Bristol. “From the roof of Wyatt’s Buildings—you know the spot?—I saw the second yellow devil coming. By God! They meant to have it to-night! They don’t value their lives a brass farthing against that damned slipper!”
“But how—”
“Along the telegraph-wires, Mr. Cavanagh! They cross Wyatt’s Buildings and cross this house. It was a moonless night or we should have seen it at once! I watched him, saw him drop to this roof—and brought the men around to the front.”
“Did he, that awful thing, escape?”