CHAPTER VII

THE UNSEEN TERROR

1.

With a little gesture of despair, Quest turned away from the instrument
which seemed suddenly to have become so terribly unresponsive, and looked
across the vista of square roofs and tangled masses of telephone wires to
where the lights of larger New York flared up against the sky. From his
attic chamber, the roar of the City a few blocks away was always in his
ears. He had forgotten in those hours of frenzied solitude to fear for his
own safety. He thought only of Lenora. Under which one of those thousands
of roofs was she being concealed? What was the reason for this continued
silence? Perhaps they had taken her instrument away--perhaps she was being
ill-used. The bare thought opened the door to a thousand grim and
torturing surmises. He paced restlessly up and down the room. Inaction had
never seemed to him so wearisome. From sheer craving to be doing
something, he paused once more before the little instrument.

"Lenora, where are you?" he signalled. "I have taken a lodging in the
Servants' Club. I am still in hiding, hoping that Craig may come here. I
am very anxious about you."

Still no reply! Quest drew a chair up to the window and sat there with
folded arms looking down into the street. Suddenly he sprang to his feet.
The instrument quivered--there was a message at last! He took it down with
a little choke of relief.

"I don't know where I am. I am terrified. I was outside the garage when I
was seized from behind. The Hands held me. I was unconscious until I found
myself here. I am now in an attic room with no window except the skylight,
which I cannot reach. I can see nothing--hear nothing. No one has hurt me,
no one comes near. Food is pushed through a door, which is locked again
immediately. The house seems empty, yet I fancy that I am being watched
all the time. I am terrified!"

Quest drew the instrument towards him.

"I have your message," he signalled. "Be brave! I am watching for Craig.
Through him I shall reach you before long. Send me a message every now and
then."

Then there was a silence.

Quest was conscious of an enormous feeling of relief and yet an almost
maddening sense of helplessness. She was imprisoned by the Hands. She was
in their power, and up till now they had shown themselves ruthless enough.
A room with a roof window only! How could she define her whereabouts! His
first impulse was to rush madly out into the street and search for her.