about him strange. He was stretched upon a bed, in an apartment much
larger than the one he was now in, with hands and feet tightly tied. The
two windows faced a blank wall, the wall apparently of the next house;
later he came to know, by the sound of Big Ben booming in the night,
that he was still in London.

The door of the room was at the back of the bed; he could not see it
from where he lay, and, bound as he was, could not even turn, but was
forced to lie flat upon his back.

He had not long been conscious, when the light of day began to fade.
Soon the room was in pitch darkness. Then it was he became aware that
someone was in the room. He listened attentively, but could hear
nothing; nevertheless the presence of a man or woman made itself "felt"
beyond a doubt. He judged the time of day to be about six o'clock in the
evening, when suddenly somebody touched him--a hand in the darkness. He
started, and called out; but there was no answer. Some minutes later a
man spoke.

The voice was not that of either of the men he had met at Gastrell's
reception; he could swear to that, he said. Yet he seemed to recognize
the voice, indeed, to have heard it recently. He racked his brains to
remember where, but to no purpose.

The man spoke in a low tone, and its _timbre_ and inflection betrayed
what is called the voice of a gentleman, he said.

"You have been brought here," the man said, "to give certain
information, and to reveal certain secrets. If you do this, you will be
released at once--you will be taken away from here in an unconscious