Then some one struck a match. It was Lord Landsend, his face very white and serious. He held it up above his head and called to Lord Malvin. "Here you are, Sir," he said. "I will get down to you in a second. Then we can find the switch to turn on the electric light." He stumbled down to where Lord Malvin sat,--showing the value of the practical man and polo player in a crisis--and together the two peers, the famous and honoured scientist and the wealthy young man whom the world flattered and called _dilettante_ and a fool, went their way to the switch-table in the guiding light of this small torch. Suddenly a blaze of light dispelled the darkness and showed a company of ghosts looking at each other with weeping faces. It showed also the figure of a girl sunk upon its chair in a deadly swoon. And it showed also the body of Sir William Gouldesbrough lying upon the floor between the series of machines and the screen upon the opposite wall. The dead face was so horrible that some one ran up immediately and covered it with a handkerchief. This was Lord Landsend. The tumult was indescribable, but by sheer power of authority and wisdom Lord Malvin calmed them all. His hand was raised as the hand of a conductor holds the vehemence of a band in check. In a few short trenchant sentences he told them the history of the strange occurrence which Donald Megbie and Mrs. Poole had brought to his notice; and even as he told them, Sir Harold Oliver and Lady Poole were bringing back the unconscious girl to life and realization. "The man is here," Lord Malvin said, "the man is here. Guy Rathbone lies dying and prisoned in this accursed house. Sir Harold Oliver, I will ask you to remain with these ladies while I will go forth and solve this horrid mystery." He looked round with a weary, questioning eye, seeking who should be his companion, and as he did so young Lord Landsend touched him on the arm and smiled. "Come, my dear boy," the old man said with a melancholy smile of kindness, "you are just the man I want; come with me." Then, before he left the laboratory, he spoke a few rapid words in French to one or two of the foreign scientists. Upon that, these gentlemen went down among the strange and fantastic apparatus upon the tables and lifted up That which but a few minutes ago had held the soul and the personality of Sir William Gouldesbrough. They carried the long, limp, terrible dead Thing to the other end of the room, where there was a screen. CHAPTER XXVI TWO FINAL PICTURES There are two things to record-- (1) His hair was quite grey, his face was old and lined. His body was beginning to be ravaged by the devilish drugs with which it had been inoculated. But he lay upon a couch in the study, and Marjorie bent over him kissing him, calling to him and cooing inarticulate words of belief and of love.