The words, whispered hoarsely into his ear, suddenly died away.  Even as they stood there, far away from the other lights, another one shone suddenly out in the spot towards which she had pointed, and continued to burn steadily.  He felt the woman who was clinging to his arm become suddenly a dead weight.

“She was right!” Mrs. Fentolin moaned.  “He is coming down to-night!  He is preparing to leave now; perhaps he has already started!  What shall we do?  What shall we do?”

Hamel was conscious of a gathering sense of excitement.  He, too, looked at the signal which was flashing out its message towards them.  Then he gripped his companion’s arm and almost carried her back into the sitting-room.

“Look here,” he said firmly, “you can do nothing further.  You have done your part and done it well.  Stay where you are and wait.  The rest belongs to me.”

“But what can you do?” she demanded, her voice shaking with fear.  “Meekins will come with him, and Doctor Sarson, unless he is here already.  What can you do against them?  Meekins can break any ordinary man’s back, and Mr. Fentolin will have a revolver.”

Hamel threw another log on to the fire and drew her chair closer to it.

“Never mind about,” he declared cheerfully.  “Mr. Fentolin is too clever to attempt violence, except as a last resource.  He knows that I have friends in London who would need some explanation of my disappearance.  Stay here and wait.”

She recognised the note of authority in his tone, and she bowed her head.  Then she looked up at him; she was a changed woman.

“Perhaps I have done ill to drag you into our troubles, Mr. Hamel,” she said, “and yet, I believe in you.  I believe that you really care for Esther.  If you can help us now, it will be for your happiness, too.  You are a man.  God bless you!”

Hamel groped his way round the side of the Tower and took up a position at the extreme corner of the landward side of the building, within a yard of the closed doors.  The light far out upon the left was still gleaming brightly, but two of the others in a line with it had disappeared.  He flattened himself against the wall and waited, listening intently, his eyes straining through the darkness.  Yet they were almost upon him before he had the slightest indication of their presence.  A single gleam of light in the path, come and gone like a flash, the gleam of an electric torch directed momentarily towards the road, was his first indication that they were near.  A moment or two later he heard the strange click, click of the little engine attached to Mr. Fentolin’s chair.  Hamel set his teeth and stepped a few inches further back.  The darkness was so intense that they were actually within a yard or so of him before he could even dimly discern their shapes.  There were three of them —­Mr. Fentolin in his chair, Doctor Sarson, and Meekins.  They paused for a moment while the latter produced a key.  Hamel distinctly heard a slow, soft whisper from Doctor Sarson.