It was then that they faced their darkest moment.  Feeling, as they did, that they were encircled by hidden enemies, the very air they breathed became a menace.  Every attempt to find the thread that might unravel the dark mystery proved futile.  It was not to be wondered at that they despaired.  Even the weird laughter of Eva’s stricken father, echoing hollowly through the house, seemed to be mocking their efforts.

The Automaton’s emissaries were anxious to do their job and return to the cave, for, like rats, they preferred the security best found underground.  They did not lead Flint very far.

At the edge of the Brent estate there was an Italian marble fountain decorated with bronze dolphins and water-nymphs disporting themselves.  It was at this fountain that the men halted Flint and, with a final warning, left him.

For a few moments, such was his fear, Flint did not remove the bandage from his eyes, but moved groping around until his hand came in contact with the edge of the fountain.  For a moment he stood quietly, listening for sounds of the emissaries.  Then, as he heard nothing, he tore the bandage from his eyes, gazed wonderingly around him until his mind grasped his exact location, then, with a bound, started to run toward Brent Rock.

Had he noticed the bestial face of an emissary peering from the shrubbery he would have been even more frightened.  Retribution, he would have known, would be swift and sure had he disregarded their commands and moved in another direction.

As Flint left the fountain Balcom, suave and well groomed as usual, was just giving his hat and stick to the butler when Locke and Eva, returning from Flint’s room, encountered him in the hallway.

“Oh, Mr. Balcom,” exclaimed Eva, “Mr. Locke and I are at a loss to account for Mr. Flint’s disappearance!  I told the gardeners, and they have hunted for him all over the estate and beyond, but he has disappeared as completely as though the ground had swallowed him.”

Balcom expressed his utmost astonishment and at once insisted on going to Flint’s room to solve the mystery himself.

Eva and Locke went directly into the library, where Locke for the first time had an opportunity to tell Eva the result of his visit to the chemist.  The fact that they had discovered the nature of the toxin was in itself encouraging, and Eva felt that, even now, she could see the glimmer of a silver lining to the clouds.

“If we can only locate Mr. Flint, Quentin,” she murmured, “I feel that much would be explained.”

Hardly had the words passed her lips when, breathless and disheveled, Flint staggered up the stairs from under the porte-cochere and into the hallway.  Balcom, just descending from his brief inspection of Flint’s room, hailed him.

“What has happened?” he demanded.  “Don’t go into the library.”

“I’ve just escaped from the Automaton,” shouted Flint, “and I’ve found the antidote!”