sink down.  He was not unconscious; for he waved his hand back and forward, as though to forbid any one to come to him.  At this time the figures of Mr. Trelawny and Mr. Corbeck were becoming indistinct in the smoke which rolled round them in thick billowy clouds.  Finally I lost sight of them altogether.  The coffer still continued to glow; but the lamps began to grow dim.  At first I thought that their light was being overpowered by the thick black smoke; but presently I saw that they were, one by one, burning out.  They must have burned quickly to produce such fierce and vivid flames.

I waited and waited, expecting every instant to hear the command to turn up the light; but none came.  I waited still, and looked with harrowing intensity at the rolling billows of smoke still pouring out of the glowing casket, whilst the lamps sank down and went out one by one.

Finally there was but one lamp alight, and that was dimly blue and flickering.  The only effective light in the room was from the glowing casket.  I kept my eyes fixed toward Margaret; it was for her now that all my anxiety was claimed.  I could just see her white frock beyond the still white shrouded figure on the couch.  Silvio was troubled; his piteous mewing was the only sound in the room.  Deeper and denser grew the black mist and its pungency began to assail my nostrils as well as my eyes.  Now the volume of smoke coming from the coffer seemed to lessen, and the smoke itself to be less dense.  Across the room I saw something white move where the couch was.  There were several movements.  I could just catch the quick glint of white through the dense smoke in the fading light; for now the glow of the coffer began quickly to subside.  I could still hear Silvio, but his mewing came from close under; a moment later I could feel him piteously crouching on my foot.

Then the last spark of light disappeared, and through the Egyptian darkness I could see the faint line of white around the window blinds.  I felt that the time had come to speak; so I pulled off my respirator and called out: 

“Shall I turn up the light?” There was no answer; so before the thick smoke choked me, I called again but more loudly: 

“Mr. Trelawny, shall I turn up the light?” He did not answer; but from across the room I heard Margaret’s voice, sounding as sweet and clear as a bell: 

“Yes, Malcolm!” I turned the tap and the lamps flashed out.  But they were only dim points of light in the midst of that murky ball of smoke.  In that thick atmosphere there was little possibility of illumination.  I ran across to Margaret, guided by her white dress, and caught hold of her and held her hand.  She recognised my anxiety and said at once: 

“I am all right.”

“Thank God!” I said.  “How are the others?  Quick, let us open all the windows and get rid of this smoke!” To my surprise, she answered in a sleepy way: