“Look here, Tom,” he began.
He swirled back to meet his friend face to face.
Then, with a startled cry, he stared at the chair, in which, an instant before, Tom Hammond had been sitting.
The chair was empty!
“Good God!” he gasped.
Instinctively he knew what had happened! Involuntarily his eyes travelled to the Placard, and in the same moment he recalled the closing words of Tom Hammond’s M.S. which he had just read:—
“‘Then shall it come to pass, that which is written, “One shall be taken, the other left.’”
A strange, unnatural trembling seized him. He dropped into the chair he had been occupying, and stared at the empty revolving chair opposite.
“Good——God!” He slowly repeated the words. There was no thought of irreverence in the utterance. It was the unconscious acknowledgment of God’s Presence and Power.
For a time—he never knew how long—he sat still and silent like a man stunned. Then, as his eyes travelled slowly to where the sheets of M.S.’s lay, he smiled wearily, drew them towards him, and took his stylo from his pocket. Putting the most powerful pressure of his will upon himself, he began to write after the last works penned by his translated chief:—