Part 19 (1/2)
CHAPTER XX
Grace had remained upon her knees beside the prostrate figure of her husband but a moment, when she was torn away by Hartmann and his a.s.sistant, and before she realized their intention, the former had slipped about her waist the broad leather strap he had brought from the room above, and was busy securing it to an iron staple fixed in the wall at one side of the room. Then he stood back and surveyed the scene with a smile of satisfaction.
”You see, Mayer,” he observed, grimly, ”my purpose. The wife sees the husband's suffering. If he refuses to speak, she will speak. One or the other will tell us what we want to know, of that you may be sure. Let us leave them to talk matters over.” He and his man at once left the room, and in a few moments Grace heard their footsteps upon the floor of the laboratory above.
”Richard,” she cried, softly, ”are you suffering very much?”
”Never mind, dear,” he said, trying vainly to turn his head so that he might see her. ”What has happened--why have they brought you here?”
She told him her story, brokenly, with many sobs. ”I could not help it, Richard,” she moaned. ”I did my best. I could not help their finding out everything.”
”I know it, dear. You have done all you could. Is there any news from outside?”
”None. They told me to play the phonograph to send you a message. Did you hear it?”
”Yes, I heard, and understood.”
”Understood? Then you know something--you have some hope?”
”I do not know. It may be, although I cannot see what to do now. I dare not tell you more than that--these scoundrels are undoubtedly listening in the room above.”
”Richard, what is that light? What is it they mean to do to you? Dr.
Hartmann showed me his hand--it was all scarred and burned. He said it came from that.” She looked toward the glowing cone of light with bitter anger.
”I do not know--exactly. I am not sure. The agony of the thing is very great--it burns into my eyes--into my brain. Hartmann says it will produce insanity. I do not know whether this is true or not. I begin to feel that perhaps it may be--not that the light itself can produce it, but that inability to sleep, pain, nervous exhaustion, the constant glare and brilliance before my eyes--those things might cause a man to go insane, if they were kept up long enough.”
”But--he--he will not dare to do that.”
Duvall groaned, striving in vain to turn his head to one side. ”He intends to keep me here, until I tell him where he can find the snuff box,” he gasped.
”Richard!” Grace fairly screamed out his name. ”Then you must tell--you _must_! You cannot let yourself go mad--not even for Monsieur Lefevre.”
”I shall not tell--no matter what comes,” he replied.
”Then _I_ will. I refuse to let you suffer like this. I can't do it, I won't. If you do not speak, I shall. Oh, my G.o.d! Don't you see--I love you--I love you so--what do I care about this foolish snuff box? I want you--you--and I _won't_ let them take you away from me.”
”Grace, you shall not tell them.”
”I will.”
”I forbid it.”
”I cannot help it, Richard. I am ready to disobey you--if I must, to save your life. Even if you turn from me--afterward--I cannot help it. I refuse to let them go ahead with this thing.”
He groaned in desperation. ”Please--please--my girl--listen to me. You must not speak. We must think of our duty to those who have trusted us.
Wait, I implore you. Don't do this!”
”I will. I have a duty to you which is greater than my duty to them. Dr.
Hartmann!” she screamed. ”I will tell everything--everything.” She collapsed against the wall and sobbed as though her heart would break.