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His hand, thrust in through the opening to reach for his clothes, had found an envelope where it lay on the top of the folded garments and his hand was still thrust inside there was no need to look the texture of the paper was hers hers the Tocsin's! The blood was racing wildly through his veins. There was a mad joy upon him and a sense of keen and bitter emptiness.
Jimmie Dale could have found it with his eyes blindfolded the Tocsin's directions had lacked none of their usual explicit minuteness. The road was quite deserted. Jimmie Dale met no one. Even in the houses that he passed the lights were in nearly every instance already out.
Would it never be his, the secret that he sought the clue that would divulge the identity of those who threatened the Tocsin's life; those who, like human wolves, like a hell-pack snarling for its prey, had driven her again into hiding and made of her a hunted thing! The fingers closed convulsively over the hypodermic. Wolves! A hell-pack!
And then, taking out the Tocsin's letter, he laid it upon the table, placed what money he had in his pockets beside it, and began rapidly to remove his clothes. The Sanctuary had not been invaded since his last visit there.
Latter always locks up and leaves promptly at six o'clock " Jimmie Dale was subconsciously repeating to himself snatches from the Tocsin's letter, which, as subconsciously in reading, he had memorised almost word for word.
His fingers, as he thrust the Pippin's note into the side pocket of his coat, touched the torn fragments of another note, tiny little particles of paper, torn over and over again into fine and minute shreds the Tocsin's note the note that seemed suddenly to have changed all his life.
And as he watched, there seemed something that was near to the acme of all that was ironical in the Magpie standing there, his sharp, little, black eyes drinking in greedily the Tocsin's work, in the Tocsin herself aiding and abetting in the projected theft OF HER OWN MONEY! How far would he let the Magpie go? He did not know. Perhaps who could tell! all the way.
Here, where he stood, the slightest stir from above must have reached him but there was not a sound. His hand felt out for the doorknob, found it, turned it, and pushed the door open. He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. The safe, according to the Tocsin's plan again, was in that sort of alcove at the lower end of the library.
It seemed to quiver, low-breathed, through the darkness his name. His name! Was he bereft of all his senses! His name! Here in this horrible murder hole! Was he indeed mad with his imaginings, with these voices that had been whispering, and laughing, and jeering at him out of the blackness! And, absurdly, it had seemed this time that it was the Tocsin's voice! "Jimmie quick!
But here's this Tocsin kickin' up the public sentiment; and if there ever was a follerin' sheep on earth, it's that same public sentiment!" "If it weren't for that" Joe flung himself heavily in a chair "there'd not be so much trouble. It's a clear enough case." "But don't ye see," interrupted Sheehan, "the Tocsin's tried it and convicted him aforehand?
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