I stood motionless, my heart swelling with the bitterness of defeat when victory had seemed so near. And as I stood there, the light above me dimmed and went out, flashed on again, dimmed again and flashed three times, finally remaining steady.
And then suddenly a voice spoke at my elbow: “Well, Clayton, have you enjoyed your evening?”
I whirled around. There was no one there!
Chapter XX.
The Room of the Voices
Struck dumb with amazement, I stood like a rat in a trap, and waited patiently for some explanation of the voice I had heard. But when it came again, a moment later, I could not repress a start of amazement and awe, for, though I was alone in the room, the voice seemed to come from only a couple of feet in front of me.
“I asked you whether you had enjoyed your evening?”
If it was ventriloquism, it was the most marvelous example of it that I had ever heard. And I put out my hands helplessly, with the wild thought of some arrangements of mirrors behind which the speaker was sheltered. But there was nothing there; nothing but the empty room.
“You do not answer?” came the voice again. “Well, it does not matter. We have done our best to make you at home at all events. And now there is a little reckoning to pay.”
Though the voice was chilled and dehumanized in a queer way, I thought I recognized the intonation. It was Ivanovitch again. In a moment he confirmed this.
“I thought we should meet again to-night, my friend, although you have not made any effort to find me. But it does not matter. We are forced to dispose of you, my dear Clayton, in any case. But you are to be greatly honored. Our Chief will speak with you himself in a moment. I believe he intends to give you the choice of the manner in which you will leave us. That is a great concession, my friend. I hope you appreciate it.”