Twice Quest's teeth came together and once he almost reeled.
"It's the fight of his life," he muttered at last, "but I've got him."
Almost as he spoke, they could see Craig's resistance begin to weaken. The
tenseness of his form relaxed; Quest's will was triumphing. Slowly in the
mirror they saw a little picture creeping from outline into definite form,
a picture of the Professor's library. Craig himself was there with mortar
and trowel, and a black box in his hand.
"It's coming!" Lenora moaned.
Quest stood perfectly tense. The picture suddenly flashed into brilliant
clearness. They saw Craig's features with almost lifelike detail. From the
corner of that room where the Professor was standing, came a smothered
groan. It was a terrifying, a paralysing moment. Even the silence seemed
charged with awful things. Then suddenly, without any warning, the picture
faded completely away. A cry which was almost a howl of anger broke from
Quest's lips. Craig had fallen sideways from his chair. There was an
ominous change in his face. Something seemed to have passed from the
atmosphere of the room, some tense and nameless quality. Quest moved
forward and laid his hand on Craig's heart. The girl was on her knees,
crying.
"Take her away," Quest whispered to Lenora.
"What about him?" French demanded, as Lenora led the girl from the room.
"He fought too hard," Quest said gravely. "He is dead. Professor,--"
They all looked around. The spot where he had been standing was empty.
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