He
regretted having entered the place so overtly, he regretted having
shown a light. Keen eyes, vigilant, regarded him. It was perhaps a
delusion, bred of the mournful night sounds, the gloom, and the
uncanny resourcefulness, already proven, of the Kazmah group. But it
operated powerfully.
Theories, wild, improbable, flocked to his mind. The great dope cache
lay beneath his feet--and there must be some hidden entrance to it
which had escaped the attention of the search-party. This in itself
was not improbable, since they had devoted no more time to this
building than to any other in the vicinity. That wild cry in the night
which had struck so mournful a chill to the hearts of the watchers on
the river had seemed to come out of the void of the blackness, had
given but slight clue to the location of the place of captivity.
Indeed, they could only surmise that it had been uttered by the
missing woman. Yet in their hearts neither had doubted it.
He determined to cause the place to be searched again, as secretly as
possible; he determined to set so close a guard over it and over its
approaches that none could enter or leave unobserved.
Yet Kismet, in whose omnipotence he more than half believed, had
ordained otherwise; for man is merely an instrument in the hand of
Fate.
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