He turned in a flash, as Weymouth entered at his heels, saw me, and fell back a step; then looked again down at the floor. "God's mercy!" he whispered, "I thought it was you--I thought it was you!" Trembling violently, my mind a feverish chaos, I moved to the foot of the bed and looked down at what lay there. "Turn up the light!" snapped Smith. Weymouth reached for the switch, and the room became illuminated suddenly. Prone upon the carpet, hands outstretched and nails dug deeply into the pile of the fabric, lay a dark-haired man having his head twisted sideways so that the face showed a ghastly pallid profile against the rich colorings upon which it rested. He wore no coat, but a sort of dark gray shirt and black trousers. To add to the incongruity of his attire, his feet were clad in drab-colored shoes, rubber-soled. I stood, one hand raised to my head, looking down upon him, and gradually regaining control of myself. Weymouth, perceiving something of my condition, silently passed his flask to me; and I gladly availed myself of this. "How in Heaven's name did he get in?" I whispered. "How, indeed!" said Weymouth, staring about him with wondering eyes. Both he and Smith had discarded their disguises; and, a bewildered trio, we stood looking down upon the man at our feet. Suddenly Smith dropped to his knees and turned him flat upon his back. Composure was nearly restored to me, and I knelt upon the other side of the white-faced creature whose presence there seemed so utterly outside the realm of possibility, and examined him with a consuming and fearful interest; for it was palpable that, if not already dead, he was dying rapidly. He was a slightly built man, and the first discovery that I made was a curious one. What I had mistaken for dark hair was a wig! The short black mustache which he wore was also factitious. "Look at this!" I cried. "I am looking," snapped Smith. He suddenly stood up, and entering the room beyond, turned on the light there. I saw him staring at the Tûlun-Nûr box, and I knew what had been in his mind. But the box, undisturbed, stood upon the table as we had left it. I saw Smith tugging irritably at the lobe of his ear, and staring from the box towards the man beside whom I knelt. "For God's sake, what does it man?" said Inspector Weymouth in a voice hushed with wonder. "How did he get in? What did he come for?--and what has happened to him?" "As to what has happened to him," I replied, "unfortunately I cannot tell you. I only know that unless something can be done his end is not far off." "Shall we lay him on the bed?" I nodded, and together we raised the slight figure and placed it upon the bed where so recently I had lain. As we did so, the man suddenly opened his eyes, which were glazed with delirium. He tore himself from our grip, sat bolt upright, and holding his hands, fingers outstretched, before his face, stared at them frenziedly.