The electric light blazed up as Joseph Chestermarke strode in. He put the door to behind him without quite closing it, and walked into the middle of the laboratory, feeling in his waistcoat pocket for something as he advanced. And Neale, peering at him through the high screen, felt afraid of him for the first time in his life. For the junior partner had shaved off his beard and moustache, and the face which was thus clearly revealed, and on which the bright light shone vividly, was one of such mean and malevolent cruelty that the watcher felt himself turn sick with dread. Joseph went straight to the door in the far wall, unlocked it with a twist of the key which he had brought from his pocket, and walked in. The click of an electric light switch followed, and Neale stared hard and nervously into the hitherto hidden room. But he saw nothing but Joseph Chestermarke, standing, hands planted on his sides, staring at something hidden by the door. Next instant Joseph spoke--menacingly, sneeringly. "So you're round again after one of your long sleeps, are you?" he said. "That's lucky! Now then, have you come to your senses?" Neale thought his heart would burst as he waited for the unseen man's voice. But before he heard any voice he heard something which turned his blood cold with horror--the clanking, plain, unmistakable, of a chain! Whoever was in there was chained!--chained like a dog. And following on that metallic sound came a weary moan. "Come on, now!" said Joseph. "None of that! Are you going to sign that paper? Speak, now!" It seemed to Neale an age before an answer came. But it came at last--and in Horbury's voice. But what a changed voice! Thin, weak, weary--the voice of a man slowly being done to death. "How long are you going to keep me here?" it asked. "How long----" "Sign that paper on the table there, and you'll be out of this within twenty-four hours," replied Joseph. "And--listen, you!--you'll have good food--and wine--wine!--within ten minutes. Come on, now!" Further silence was followed by another moan, and at the sound of that, Neale, whose teeth had been clenched firmly for the last minute or two, slipped his hand round to the pocket in which the revolver lay. "Don't be a damned fool!" said Joseph. "Sign and have done with it! There's the pen--sign! You could have signed any time the last week and been free. Get it done--damn you, I tell you, get it done! It's your last chance. I'm off tonight. If I leave you here, it's in your grave. Nobody'll ever come near this place for weeks--you'll be dead--starved to death, mind!--long before that. Do you hear me? Come on, now!--sign!"