He passed his hand over
his forehead heavily, and a wanness came into his face and eyes. Once
before be had stood here at this window of his den, the room that ran
the entire depth of his magnificent Riverside Drive residence, and old
Jason had stood at the front window--and they had watched, Jason and
he--watched the shadows, that were not shadows of walls and buildings,
close in around the house. That was the night before he had escaped from
the trap set by the Crime Club; the night before the old Sanctuary had
burned down, and police and underworld alike had believed the Gray Seal
buried beneath the charred and fallen walls; the night before she, the
Tocsin, had come for a little while into her own, and for a little
while--into his arms.
His lips twisted in pain. A little while! Days of glad and glorious
wonder! They were gone now; and in their place was emptiness and
loneliness--and a great, overmastering fear and terror that would clutch
at times, as it clutched now, cold at his heart.
It was not so very long ago that night, only a few months ago, but it
seemed as though the years had come and rolled away since then. She was
gone again, driven by a peril that menaced her life into hiding again--a
peril that she would not let him share--because she _loved_ him.
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