You fell into the
snare. And now you are here, and no one knows, eh? No one knows?" "You think so?" I asked. I was beginning to get back my wits. But he only laughed. "It does not matter. The great thing is, you are
here and in my power. That was all I wanted. Now, Ottley! Now!" It was another signal. Something hard and heavy crashed against my
skull. For a second I fought for breath against a horrible feeling of
sickness and impotence, then came blank night and nothingness. I had
been sandbagged. I recovered to find that my captors had strapped me hand and foot in
a huge iron chair. I could not move an inch in any one direction, but
otherwise my situation was tolerably comfortable. Belleville sat facing
me some feet away. He was plucking thoughtfully at his big, black
beard. There was no one else in the room. Perceiving I was awake, he
arose and took from a table near him a glass of water, which he brought
to me. "It is not poisoned," he remarked. "I have considerable need of you for
some time yet." He placed the glass to my lips then, and I drank with
confidence. I felt better afterwards, but my head ached bravely still. Belleville resumed his chair and again began to pluck at his beard. "No
doubt your head aches," he observed. "I regret having been obliged to
use you so discourteously, but we have had so much experience of your
muscular vigour that to have risked a physical encounter would have
been absurd. We might have been forced to kill you, and that would not
have suited my plans." "Indeed," said I. It cost me a painful effort to speak at all. "I desire to be perfectly candid with you," said Belleville. "But
before we get down to business it were as well to prove to you how
completely at my mercy you are." He took, as he spoke, a revolver from
his pocket and aimed carelessly at the opposite wall. "This apartment
used to be a shooting gallery," he observed. "All the walls are
padded." He then discharged the weapon six times in rapid succession. The bullets spattered on a plate of steel. The sound of the reports
was simply deafening. A full minute passed before the echoes and
reverberations ceased. All the while Belleville smiled at me. "No one
heard but you and I," he said. "The futility, therefore, of wasting
your breath in shouting for help will appeal to you." I glanced about and found that all the walls I could see were
windowless. The room was lighted by electricity. The door was thickly
coated with padded cushioned leather. The floor was carpeted with one
vast sheet of rubber. The place was fitted up as a chemical laboratory. I counted half a dozen glass tables littered with retorts and dynamos,
testing tubes and other instruments. There were big glass cases filled
with porcelain boxes and phials of drugs and large jars containing
acids. And finally there was one object my eyes rested on with a little
shock of recognition. This was the sarcophagus of Ptahmes. It was
raised about three feet from the ground upon two steel trestles. The
great sculptured lid was propped on end against a neighbouring wall. But although the coffin was open I could not see within it because the
edge was almost on a level with my eyes. "Are you satisfied?" asked Belleville presently. He had followed the
direction of my glances with a sort of half-contemptuous, half-amused
curiosity, reloading his revolver the while. The man evidently
cherished an immense opinion of himself--but he was as cautious as a
sage: witness the reloading of his weapon--despite the fact that I was
as helpless as a trussed fowl. "Yes. I am satisfied," I answered. "And cool? What I mean is are you perfectly collected? Do you feel able
to engage in conversation? Or are you too dazed--or perhaps too angry?" "I can promise at least to listen and try to understand you." He gave me a sardonic smile. "The under dog is a fool to be sarcastic,"
he said drily. "However, please yourself. Listen then! You are no doubt
aware that it is one of my ambitions to marry Miss Ottley?" "Yes." "Captain Weldon stood some time since in my road." "Yes." "Peace to his ashes," smiled the Doctor. Then he frowned. "But to my
astonishment I now find that the lady did not care for the gallant
Captain." "Indeed." "Indeed and indeed." Belleville bit his lip. "But for you," he snarled. I was silent. "It is almost incredible, but it is true." "She has confided in you?" I asked. "As a preliminary step to defying me," replied Belleville. "It was
rather silly of her, but perhaps she could not help herself. Women,
even the wisest, are slaves to their emotions of the moment. I was
willing to make all sorts of concessions, too. I even offered her your
life." "My life." "I offered to permit you to live if she would marry me." "And she?" Belleville bared his teeth just as I have seen a jackal grin. "You
know how women love to glorify the objects of their admiration," he
said slowly. "In their opinion the men they--they love--are always
the wisest, the strongest, the most astute and the best. I am free to
admit, my dear Pinsent, that you are by no means a fool. You have no
doubt a fairly keen intelligence--but Miss Ottley has placed you on an
alabaster pedestal--pedestal do I say? A pinnacle! She has actually
ventured to contrast your ability with mine to my disparagement. She
rejected my offer with disdain and challenged me to measure wits with
you. And when I accepted the challenge she calmly predicted that you
would defeat and destroy me. It thus became my duty to show her how
mistaken and fallible in truth is her estimate of me. Weldon's death
taught her nothing, absolutely nothing. She protested that if I was
really the _deus ex machina_ it only proved me to be an ordinary sort
of heartless murderer. Weldon's particular order of intellect never
impressed her, it appears. But yours, in her eyes, is little short of
divine. There was no help then but to dispose of you in such a way as
to open her eyes. It is no boast to say that I could have killed you
at any time of the day or night I pleased for weeks past. Had I done
so, however, I should have been constrained so to arrange matters--as
in Weldon's case--as to make your end appear natural; and I'm afraid
Miss Ottley would on that account have been inclined to consider, for
a second time, me a lucky prophet and you the second victim of an
inscrutable Providence. That is her present attitude toward Weldon's
final exit from the stage of life. I was obliged then so to arrange
matters as to get you into my power, but, _bien entendu_, without the
fanfare of trumpets. I flatter myself that I have managed very well. You may pretend the contrary if you choose, but you'll not convince
me. I have had your every movement carefully followed, and I believe
that outside of this house there is not a soul in England of your
acquaintance who has a doubt but that you are on your way to Egypt. And I have neglected no precautions that could ever give rise to such
a doubt.