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Updated: June 3, 2025
Thornton was scrutinizing Bennie's rough diagram. "This ring discharge," he meditated; "I wonder if it isn't something like a sunspot. You know the spots are electron vortices with strong magnetic fields. I'll bet you the Savaroff disintegrating rays come from the spots and not from the whole surface of the sun!"
This last observation at least was true; and I can only hope the recording angel jotted it down as a slight set-off against the opposite column. Savaroff removed his bulky form from in front of the cabin door, and crossing the well, sat down beside the others. They began to talk again in German; but as before I could only catch the merest scraps of their conversation.
There was a note of irony in his voice which left one in no doubt as to his own private opinion of our guiding agency. I stepped out into the drive carrying my bag. Savaroff, who was sitting in the driving seat of the car, turned half round towards me. "Put it on the floor at the back under the rug," he said. "You will sit in front with me."
Von Brünig and Savaroff moved up alongside of him, and I stood there confronting the three of them. "You have heard my choice," I said. McMurtrie laughed. It was precisely the way in which I should imagine the devil laughs on the rare occasions when he is still amused. "You are evidently a bad judge of character, Mr. Lyndon," he said.
I had little to interrupt me, for with the exception of Sonia who brought me up my meals, and the old deaf-and-dumb housekeeper who came to do my room about midday, I saw or heard nobody. McMurtrie did not appear again, and Savaroff, as I knew, was away in London.
I felt sure that he was lying in some important particulars but precisely which they were I was unable to guess for certain. That he wanted the secret of the new explosive, and wanted it badly, there could be no doubt, but neither he nor Savaroff in the least suggested to me a successful manufacturer of cordite or anything else.
He got up and looked round the room at the shattered window and the other traces of the fray, his gaze coming finally to rest on the prostrate figure of Savaroff. "That was a fine punch of yours, Lyndon," he added. "I hope you haven't broken his neck." "I don't think so," I said. "Necks like Savaroff's take a lot of breaking."
He spoke with his usual suavity, but there was a veiled menace in his voice which it was impossible to overlook. Savaroff scowled at me more truculently than ever. It was obvious that both of them were entirely ignorant of Sonia's part in the affair, and suspected me of some extraordinary bit of clumsiness. I prepared myself for some heavy lying.
I had finished my lists and drawings for McMurtrie, and my only resources were two or three sensational novels which Sonia brought me back one day after a visit to Plymouth. I cannot say I found them very entertaining. I had been rather too deeply into life in that line myself to have much use for the second-hand imaginings of other people. Of the doctor and Savaroff I saw comparatively little.
I have had some practice in my boxing days of dealing with knocked-out men, and although Savaroff was a pretty hard case, a little vigorous massage and one or two good sousings soon produced signs of returning consciousness. Indeed, he had just recovered sufficiently to indulge in a really remarkable oath when the door swung open and Ellis came back into the room, accompanied by two other men.
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