"Then came the reply in excellent English. 'Your name is Sergius Tchigorsky, and your companion is Ralph James Mayton. I have found you out. I have only to raise my hand and your fate is sealed.' "It was all over. I said nothing. I asked no pity. Pity! You might as well strive to soften the heart of the wounded tiger that has you down with a handful of nuts. Then I----" Tchigorsky paused. His eyes were on the table. He pointed to the silken thread that was slowly moving in the direction of the door. "Hush!" he said softly. "Blow out the light." CHAPTER XXXI THE SILK THREAD Intensely interested as he was in the story that Tchigorsky had to tell, Geoffrey nevertheless watched the slowly moving thread on the table. Gradually and very slowly the silken tag began to draw away from the pattern on the tablecloth, Tchigorsky following it with grim eyes. "You find it strange?" he asked Geoffrey. "Strange and thrilling," Geoffrey replied. "It appeals to the imagination. Some tragedy may be at the other end of that innocent-looking thread." "There may be; there would be if I were not here. We are dealing with a foe whose cunning and audacity know no bounds. You see I have been among the foe and know something of their dealings." A passionate anger rose up in Geoffrey as he watched the gliding thread. "Then why not drop upon them?" he cried. "Why not produce your proofs and hand the miscreants over to the police?" "What good would that do?" Tchigorsky replied. "Could we prove that the foe had had a direct hand in the tragedies of the past? Could we demonstrate to the satisfaction of a jury that Mrs. May and her confederates were responsible for those poisoned flowers or the bees? And if we get them out of the way there are others behind them. No, no; they must be taught a lesson; they must know that we are all-powerful. And they must feel the weight of our hands. Then the painful family scandal----" "You are going too far," Ralph interrupted warningly. Tchigorsky checked himself after a glance at Geoffrey. "I am not to be told everything," he said. "Why?" "Because we dare not," Ralph murmured. "It is not that we cannot trust you, but because we dare not." With this Geoffrey was fain to be content. By this time the thread had left the table, and was lying on the floor. "The other end is tied to Mrs. May's door," Tchigorsky explained. "When that door was cautiously opened, of course, the thread moved. Geoffrey, you stay here. Ralph, will you go up by the back staircase and get up to the corridor. Wait there." "Is there danger?" Geoffrey whispered.