There was a curious, eager flush on Ralph Ravenspur's face. He rose from his seat and paced the room restlessly. Those long fingers were incessantly clutching at something vague and unseen. And, at the same time, he was following the story that Geoffrey had to tell with the deepest attention.

"What does it mean, uncle?" the young man asked at length.

"I cannot tell you," Ralph replied. His tones were hard and cold. "There are certain things no mortal can understand unless——; but I must not go into that. It may be that you have touched the fringe of the mystery——"

"I am certain that we are on the verge of a discovery!" Geoffrey cried eagerly. "I am sure that stuff those strangers were making was the same as the drug or whatever it was that came so near to making an end of my grandfather. If I knew what to do!"

"Nothing—do nothing, as you hope for the future!"

The words came hissing from Ralph's lips. He felt his way across to Geoffrey and laid a grip on his arm that seemed to cut like a knife.

"Forget it!" he whispered. "Fight down the recollection of the whole thing; do nothing based upon your discovery. I cannot say more, but I am going to give you advice worth much gold. Promise me that you will forget this matter; that you will not mention it to a soul. Promise!"

Geoffrey promised, somewhat puzzled and dazed. Did Ralph know everything, or was he as ignorant as the rest?

"I will do what you like," said Geoffrey. "But it is very hard. Can't you tell me a little more? I am brave and strong."

"Courage and strength have nothing to do with it. A nation could do nothing in this case. I am going to London to-day."

"You are going to London alone?"

"Why not? I came here from the other side of the world alone. I have to see a doctor about my eyes. No, there is no hope that I can ever recover my sight again; but it is possible to allay the pain they give me."

Ralph departed. A dogcart deposited him at Biston Junction, and then the servant saw him safely into the London train. But presently Ralph alighted and a porter guided him to a cab. A little later and the blind man was knocking at the door of a cottage in the poorer portion of the town.

A short, stocky man, with a seafaring air, opened the door.

"Is it you, Elphick?" Ralph asked.

The short man with the resolute face and keen, gray eyes exclaimed with pleasure:

"So you've got back at last, sir. Come in, sir. I am alone here as you know. I knew you'd want me before long."

Ralph Ravenspur felt his way to a chair. James Elphick stood watching him with something more than pleasure in his eyes.

"We have no time to spare," Ralph exclaimed. "We must be in London to-night, James. I am going up to see Dr. Tchigorsky."

"Dr. Tchigorsky!" Elphick exclaimed. "Didn't I always say as how he'd get through? The man who'd get the best of him ain't born yet. But it means danger, sir. Nothing we ever carried out with the doctor was anything else."

"Danger you do not dream of," Ralph said impressively. "But I cannot discuss this with you, James. You are coming with me to London. Get the disguise out and let me see if your hand still retains its cunning."

Apparently it had, for an hour later there walked from the cottage toward the station an elderly, stout man, with white hair and beard and whiskers. His eyes were guarded by tinted glasses; the complexion of the face was singularly clear and ruddy. All trace of those cruel criss-cross lines had gone. Wherever Elphick had learned his art, he had not failed to learn it thoroughly.

"It's perfect; though I say it as shouldn't," he remarked. "It's no use, sir; you can't get on without me. If I'd gone with you to Lassa, all that horrible torture business would never have happened."

Ralph Ravenspur smiled cautiously. The stiff dressing on his face made a smile difficult in any case.

"At all events, I shall want you now," he said.

It was nearly seven when the express tram reached Euston. Ralph stood on the great bustling, echoing, platform as if waiting for something. An exclamation from Elphick attracted his attention.

"There's the doctor as large as life!" he said.

"Tchigorsky!" Ralph cried. "Surely not in his natural guise. Oh, this is reckless folly! Does he court defeat at the outset of our enterprise?"

Tchigorsky bustled up. For some reason or other he chose to appear in his natural guise. Not till they were in the cab did Ravenspur venture to expostulate.

"Much learning has made you mad," he said bitterly.

"Not a bit of it," the Russian responded. "Unfortunately for me the priests of Lassa have discovered that I am deeply versed in their secrets. Not that they believe for a moment that Tchigorsky and the Russian who walked the valley of the Red Death are one and the same. They deem me to be the recipient of that unhappy man's early discoveries. But your identity remains a secret. The cleverest eyes in the world could never penetrate your disguise."

"It comforts me to hear that," Ralph replied. "Everything depends upon my identity being concealed. Once it is discovered, every Ravenspur is doomed. But I cannot understand why you escape recognition at the hands of the foe."

A bitter smile came over Tchigorsky's face.

"Can you not?" he said. "If you had your eyes you would understand. Man, I have been actually in the company of those who flung me into the valley of the Red Death and they have not known me. After that I stood in the presence of my own mother, and she asked who I was.

"The marks on my face? Well, there are plenty of explorers who have been victims to the wire helmet and have never dreamt of entering Lassa. I am a broken, decrepit wreck, I who was once so proud of my inches. The horrors of that one day have changed me beyond recognition. But you know."

Ralph shuddered from head to foot. A cold moisture stood on his forehead.

"Don't," he whispered. "Don't speak of it. When the recollection comes over me I have to hold on to my senses as a shipwrecked sailor clings to a plank. Never mind the past—the future has peril and danger enough. You know why I am here?"

"To save your house from the curse upon it. To bring the East and West together, and tell of the vilest conspiracy the world has ever seen. Do you know who the guilty creature is, whose hand is actually striking the blow?"

"I think so; in fact I am sure of it. But who would believe my accusation?"

"Who, indeed! But we shall be in a position to prove our case, now that the secrets of the prison-house lie before us. We have three to fear."

"Yes, yes," said Ralph. "The two Bonzes—who have actually been seen near Ravenspur—and the Princess Zara. Could she recognize me?"

Ralph asked the question in almost passionate entreaty.

"I am certain she could not," Tchigorsky replied. "Come, victory shall be ours yet. Here we are at my house at last. By the way, you must have a name. You shall be my cousin Nicholas Tchigorsky, a clever savant, who, by reason of a deplorable accident, has become both blind and dumb. Allons."