repetition of the previous night. I lost count of time, and had sudden
desires to move, but managed to control them.

Certainly I did not sleep, and I fought successfully against the hypnotic
influence which silence and darkness exert. Not a sound of movement came
from Quarles, not a murmur from the world outside.

More than once I wanted to ask the professor whether he was all right,
but did not do so.

It seemed that this utter silence had lasted for hours, when it was
broken, not suddenly, but gradually. It was not a sound so much as a
movement which broke it. Some one or something was near us. At first it
did not seem to be in the room, but as if it were trying to get in. I
could not tell where it was, but for a time it was outside, and then just
as certainly I knew that it was in.

I cannot say positively that I heard a footfall on the carpet, but I
think I did, and then came an unmistakable sound; the swish of the bed
hangings suddenly drawn back.

"Quarles!"

Whether I shouted his name or whispered it, I do not know, but the next
moment a ray from the electric torch cut the darkness like a long sword.

There was a low, almost inarticulate cry, then a light thud upon the
floor--so light it might have been some clothes falling from the bed.

"Don't move, Wigan!" Quarles said, and a second afterwards he