"But the baron's guards tracked them down and murdered them both two days later. And Gustav Jerbette gained his first renown--he was then but a young student--when he immortalized them by painting his famous picture, 'Elaine Duchard's Escape'." "And now Elaine--" * * * * * The old man straightened wearily. "Our Elaine will die," he said. "Her mind will be wiped out when the Morriere pikes stab through my ancestor's body." "There must be some way of calling her back--" "If there is, I do not know it." He shook his head. "No. There is nothing we can do." "We can try!" Mark's voice rang out like the clang of a great iron bell, echoing with grim resolve. His tanned jaw jutted hard with determination. His eyes flashed brown fire. Elaine's father let his hands fall in a hopeless gesture. "What is there to try, my boy? Elaine's mind is gone, back a hundred and fifty years into the past. Her body lies unconscious in a hospital. What can we do?" A savage, humorless smile played over the other's lips. "Earlier this evening you said I was a man of action," he told the savant tautly. "You said I knew how to handle things I knew about. Well, I think it's time for action. Real action!" "But what action can we take? What can--" "Who's responsible for what's happened to Elaine?" "Responsible? Adrian Vance is responsible, of course. There is too much evidence for it to be coincidence--" "Right!" Mark's eyes were black with rage. "That snake planned this. He said he'd get revenge. This"--he gestured toward the mirror--"is his way of doing it!" "All this is rather obvious," the scientist commented wearily. "But the fact that Vance is guilty of this atrocity does us no good. Nor does it help Elaine--" "But it will!" "It will? How?" The younger man hunched forward tensely. "We're going to catch that devil and strangle an answer out of him!" he grated. "We're going to make him tell us how to bring Elaine safely back to 1942!" "And if he does not know how? If he cannot help us?" "That'll be too bad. Because then we'll just keep on strangling him." He laughed harshly. "Oh, yes. Vance may win. We may not be able to save Elaine. But"--and his face was terrible to see--"Vance certainly won't live long enough to gloat much!" A spark of hope sprang into Professor Duchard's blue eyes. "I wish I could believe you--" "Forget it. We've got more important things to do than wishing. Look out that window!" * * * * * The white-haired scientist turned to the casement toward which the other pointed. Saw dawn reddening the eastern sky. "It's morning already," Mark went on determinedly. "In a few hours more, we can start things rolling by having you call up Vance." "Call up Vance? What would I say?" The devil's bitter mirth played in the other's eyes. But it was a mirth spiked with menace.