"JACK WAS CAUTIOUSLY ENGAGED IN DISCONNECTING THE WIRES."
"Jack!" he exclaimed, sternly, "what is the meaning of this?"
Jack bounded to his feet in horror. His hand fell nervelessly from the stud he had been manipulating, and, catching in one of the drawers, drew it partially open. It was sufficient to actuate the mechanism. A faint whirr in the room above responded to the movement of the drawer; and at the same time the study door, as if impelled by an invisible hand, swung quickly to and closed with a faint click.
The two young men were prisoners. There was no means of egress except by the door, and that could only be opened now from the outside. The doctor's burglar trap had fulfilled its purpose admirably.
For the space of two or three moments the pair stood motionless facing each other, Jack had gripped the back of the doctor's study chair and was staring with haggard eyes at the door. Then suddenly, with a half-frenzied exclamation, he threw himself at it and tore desperately with his fingers at its smooth, hard surface. It was of no use. He fell back with a groan of despair and, dropping heavily into a chair, covered his face with his hands.
"Good Heaven! My father!—Madge! What will they think of me?" said he, hoarsely, as he passed his hand over his damp forehead. "Oh, I must have been mad—mad!"
Cyril Wayne looked down at the wretched Jack, half pitying, half despising him. Was this crouching, would-be thief to become Madge's husband? What a match! Was it not for the best that the innocent girl should be undeceived before it was too late? But the cruelty of it! He shrank involuntarily from the idea of witnessing the death-blow that was to be dealt at her affection. He pictured to himself a misery, an anguish, a hundred-fold greater than this cowering wretch was capable of feeling. Oh, it was impossible!
"Jack!" said he, stooping suddenly and shaking the abject figure by the shoulder. "Look up, man! Do you hear?"
Jack lifted his head and stared at Cyril stupidly.