m insane. Had he not better fly--leave all
and escape out of sight in the hiding darkness? Better abandon the
greater prize, take everything in reach, and fly from scenes so
terrible.

He rose softly, dressed completely, took a few essentials from his
table, did them up in a bundle, and then like a cat he crept out of the
room, never to return. The house was pitch dark and as silent as a tomb.
He had no need of a light, and, feeling his way along with his hands on
the wall, he stole down stairs and through the hall till he reached the
library door. With cautious fingers he turned the handle in silence and
pushed the door open. It seemed to catch on the threshold, but it was
only for an instant, and then he boldly entered the room.

Placing his bundle upon the table, he took out a small bunch of keys,
and with his hands outstretched before him he felt for the safe. It was
easily found, and then he put in the key, unlocked the door, and swung
it open. With familiar fingers he pulled out what he knew were mere
bills and documents, and then he found the small tin box in which--

A blinding glare, an awful flash of overpowering light blazed before
him. His eyes seemed put out by its bewildering intensity, and a little
scream of terror escaped from his lips. A hand seized him by the collar
and dragged him over backward upon the floor. The blazing, burning light
filled all the room with a glare more terrible than the lightning. He
recovered his sight, and saw Nemesis standing above him, revolver in
hand, and with a torch of magnesium wire blazing in horrid flames above
his head.

"Stir hand or foot, and--you understand. There are six chambers, and I'm
a good shot."

"Let me up, you fool, or I'll kill you."

"Oh! You surprise me, Mr. Belford. I thought it was a common robber."

"No, it is not--so lower your pistol."

"No, sir. You may rise, but make the slightest resistance, and I'll blow
your brains into muddy fragments. Sit in that chair, and when I've
secured you properly, I'll hear any explanation you may make. Your
conduct is very singular, Mr. Belford, to say the least. That's it. Sit
down in the arm chair. Now I'm going to tie you into it, and on the
slightest sign of resistance I shall fire."

The poor, cowed creature sank into the chair, and the son of science
placed his strange lamp upon the table. With the revolver still in
hand, he procured a match and lit a candle on the table. Then he
extinguished his t