“Jerry, the thing is plainly up to you and me. Higgins gives us three
days. Day after tomorrow morning, if we haven't got results by that
time, we've got to give in and put that ad in the paper. But I
don't mean to give in, Jerry! Not until I've exhausted every other
possibility!”
“What're you going to do?” he asked thoughtfully.
“Work on that ring. I was a fool not to get busy sooner. As for the
rest, that's up to you! You've got to get yourself on the Rhamda's trail
as soon as you can, and camp there! The first chance you get, ransack
his room and belongings, and bring me every bit of data you find.
Between him and the ring, the truth ought to come out.”
“All right. But don't forget that--” pointing to the unexplained spot
on the wood of the doorway. “You've got a mighty important clue there,
waiting for you to analyse it.”
And he went and got his hat, and left the house. His final remark was
that we wouldn't see him back until he had something to report about our
man.
Five o'clock the next morning found my sister and me out of our beds and
desperately busy. She spent a good deal of time, of course in caring for
Ariadne. The poor girl showed no improvement at all; and we got scant
encouragement from the fact that she looked no worse.
Not a sound escaped her lips; her eyes remained closed; she gave no sign
of life, save her barely perceptible breathing. It made me sick at heart
just to look at her; so near, and yet so fearfully far away.
But when Charlotte could spare any time she gave me considerable help in
what I was trying to do. One great service she was rendering has already
been made clear: she wore the ring constantly, thus relieving me of
the anxiety of caring for it. I was very cautious not to have it in my
possession for more than a few minutes at a time.
My first move was to set down, in orderly fashion, the list of the gem's
attributes. I grouped together the fluctuating nature of its pale blue
colour, its power of reproducing those who had gone into the Blind Spot,
its combination of perfect solidity with extreme lightness; its quality
of coldness to the touch of a male, and warmth to that of a female; and
finally its ability to induct--I think this is the right term--to induct
sounds out of the unknown. This last quality might be called spasmodic
or accidental, whereas the others were permanent and constant.
Now, to this list I presently was able to add that the gem possessed no
radioactive properties that I could detect with the usual means. It was
only when I began dabbling in chemistry that I learned things.
By placing the gem inside a glass bell, and exhausting as much air as
possible from around it, the way was cleared for introducing other forms
of gases. Whereupon I discovered this:
The stone will absorb any given quantity of hydrogen gas.
In this respect it behaves analogously to that curious place on
the door-frame. Only, it absorbs gas, no liquid; and not any gas,
either--none but hydrogen.
Now, obviously this gem cannot truly absorb so much material, in the
sense of retaining it as well. The simple test of weighing it afterwards
proves this; for its weight remains the same in any circumstances.
Moreover, unlike the liquids which I poured into the wood and saw
afterwards in the basement, the gas does not escape back into the air. I
kept it under the Dell long enough to be sure of that. No; that hydrogen
is, manifestly, translated into the Blind Spot.
Learning nothing further about the gem at that time, I proceeded to
investigate the trim of the door. I began by trying to find out the
precise thickness of that liquid-absorbing layer.
To do this I scraped off the “skin” of the air-darkened wood. This layer
was .02 of an inch thick. And--that was the total amount of the active
material!
I put these scrapings through a long list of experiments. They told
me nothing valuable. I learned only one detail worth mentioning; if a
fragment of the scrapings be brought near to the Holcomb gem--say, to
within two inches--the scrapings will burst into flame. It is merely
a bright, pinkish flare, like that made by smokeless rifle-powder. No
ashes remain. After that we took care not to bring the ring near the
remaining material on the board.
All this occurred on the first day after Ariadne was stricken. Jerome
phoned to say that he had engaged the services of a dozen private
detectives, and expected to get wind of the Rhamda any hour. Both Dr.
Hansen and Dr. Higgins called twice, without being able to detect any
change for the better or otherwise in their patient.
That evening Charlotte and I concluded that we could not hold out any
longer. We must give in to the Rhamda. I phoned for a messenger, and
sent an advertisement to the newspaper which Avec had indicated.
The thing was done. We had capitulated.
The next development would be another and triumphant call from the
Rhamda, and this time we would have to give up the gem to him if we were
to save Ariadne.
The game was up.
But instead of taking the matter philosophically, I worried about it all
night. I told myself again and again that I was foolish to think about
something that couldn't be helped. Why not forget it, and go to sleep?
But somehow I couldn't. I lay wide awake till long past midnight,
finding myself growing more and more nervous. At last, such was the
tension of it all, I got up and dressed. It was then about one-thirty,
and I stepped out on the street for a walk.
Half an hour later I returned, my lungs full of fresh air, hoping that I
could now sleep. It was only a hope. Never have I felt wider awake than
I did then.
Once more--about three--I took another stroll outside. I seemed
absolutely tireless.
Each time that I had turned back home I seemed to feel stronger than
ever, more wakeful. Finally I dropped the idea altogether, went to the
house, and left a note for Charlotte, then walked down to the waterfront
and watched some ships taking advantage of the tide. Anything to pass
the time.
And thus it happened, that, about eight o'clock--breakfast time at 288
Chatterton Place--I returned to the house, and sat down at the table
with Charlotte. First, however, I opened the morning paper to read our
little ad.
It was not there. It had not been printed.