Hurriedly he slid the cabinet into place again and stood with his back
to it, arms outstretched.
"Miska!" he said--and a note of yet deeper despair had crept into the
harsh voice.
Awhile he stood thus; then he drew himself up with dignity. The bells
had ceased.
Methodically Fo-Hi began to take certain books from the shelves and to
cast them into the great metal bowl which stood upon the tripod. Into
the bowl he poured the contents of a large glass jar. Flames and
clouds of smoke arose. He paused, listening.
Confused voices were audible, seemingly from all around him, together
with a sound of vague movements.
Fo-Hi took up vials and jars and dashed them to pieces upon the tiled
hearth in which the furnace rested. Test-tubes, flasks and retorts he
shattered, and finally, raising the large glass case of orchids he
dashed it down amid the debris of the other nameless and priceless
monstrosities unknown to Western science.
CHAPTER VII
THE WAY OF A SCORPION
A black cloud swept past the face of the moon and cold illumination
flooded the narrow lane and patched with light the drive leading up
to the front of the isolated mansion. Wrought-iron gates closed both
entrances and a high wall, surmounted by broken glass and barbed
wire, entirely surrounded the grounds.
"This one also is locked," said Gaston Max, trying the gate and then
peering through the bars in the direction of the gloomy house.
All the visible windows were shuttered.
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