I am terrified!"
Quest drew the instrument towards him.
"I have your message," he signalled. "Be brave! I am watching for Craig.
Through him I shall reach you before long. Send me a message every now and
then."
Then there was a silence.
Quest was conscious of an enormous feeling of relief and yet an almost
maddening sense of helplessness. She was imprisoned by the Hands. She was
in their power, and up till now they had shown themselves ruthless enough.
A room with a roof window only! How could she define her whereabouts! His
first impulse was to rush madly out into the street and search for her.
Then his common sense intervened. His one hope was through Craig. Again he
took up his vigil in front of the window. Once more his eyes swept the
narrow street with its constant stream of passers-by. Each time a man
stopped and entered the building, he leaned a little further forward, and
at each disappointment he seemed to realise a little more completely the
slenderness of the chance upon which he was staking so much. Then suddenly
he found himself gripping the window-sill in a momentary thrill of rare
excitement. His vigil was rewarded at last. The man for whom he was
waiting was there! Quest watched him cross the street, glance furtively to
the right and to the left, then enter the club. He turned back to the
little wireless and his fingers worked as though inspired.
"I am on Craig's track," he signalled. "Be brave."
He waited for no reply, but opened the door and stealing softly out of the
room, leaned over the banisters.
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