“While this is being done means must be found to smuggle other men, in the guise of servants, into the various buildings selected, or to corrupt those already so employed therein.  At the designated hour—­”

The words dried upon his lips as somewhere a hidden bell stabbed the quiet with short, sharp thrills of sound, a code that spelled a message of terrifying significance.  The inventor started violently, but no more so than every man about the table.  Even Number One, shocked out of his lounging pose, grasped the arms of his throne with convulsive hands.

Quietly and without a hint of hurry, the Chinese, Shaik Tsin, moved back into the shadows and, unnoticed, disappeared behind a screen.

For a moment, when the bell had ceased, nobody spoke; but pallid face consulted face and eyes grown wide with dread sought eyes that winced in terror.

Then the Bengali leaped from his chair, jabbering with bloodless lips.

“Police!  Raid!  We are betrayed!”

He made an uncertain turn, as if thinking to seek safety in flight but doubting which way to choose; and the movement struck panic into the minds and hearts of his fellows.  In a twinkling all were on their feet.  But before one could move a step the lamp in the ceiling winked out, the room was left in darkness unrelieved, and the accents of Number One were heard, coldly imperative.

“Gentlemen! be good enough to resume your places—­let no one move before there is light again.  We are in no immediate danger:  Shaik Tsin will show you out by a secret way long before the police can hope to find and break into this chamber.  In the meantime—­”

The infuriated voice of the Englishman interrupted: 

“And ’oo’re you to give us orders?—­you ’oo talked so big about ‘avin’ tied the ’ands of the Lone Wolf and Scotland Yard!  You blarsted blow’ard!  Bli’me if I don’t believe it’s you ’oo—­”

“Quietly, Seven!  Have you forgotten you have a bad heart?—­that excitement may mean your sudden death?”

The rage of the Englishman ran out in a gasp and a whisper.

“In the meantime,” Number One resumed as if there had been no break, “I promised that, before the night was out, you should have proof of my ability to enforce my will.”

A groan of agony answered him, followed by an oath of witless fear.  From a distance the voice, now thin but still sonorous, added: 

“Thirteen will hold himself ready to wait on me when I send for him to-morrow.  Gentlemen of the Council, I bow to you all.”

Again silence held for a long minute during which no man stirred or spoke.  Then overhead the lamp burned bright again, discovering six frightened men upon their feet and one who, still seated, did not stir, and never would again.

His head fallen forward, chin resting on his chest, mouth ajar, inert arms dangling over the arms of the chair, heavy legs lax, the Englishman sat quite dead, dead without a sign to show how death had come to him.