Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/70

Chan stood there, a rather helpless-looking figure, holding the letter in his hand. Could it be true? Was the answer to this puzzle so soon within his grasp? A long understanding look passed between him and Tarneverro. The room seemed filled with people, milling about, seeking chairs. Charlie lifted his right hand to slit the envelope.

The floor lamp furnished the only illumination in the room. Chan took a step nearer it; he had the envelope open now, and was about to remove the contents. Suddenly the lamp went out, and the room was plunged into darkness. There followed the sound of a blow, then another, a cry and the fall of a rather solid body.

The place was in an uproar. Out of the blackness came an insistent demand for lights. The lamps in the wall brackets flashed on, revealing Jessop at the switch.

Charlie was slowly rising from the floor. He rubbed his right cheek, which was bleeding slightly.

“Overwhelmed with regret,” he said, glancing at Tarneverro. “Famous god Jove, I hear, nodded on occasion. For myself, I fear I have just taken most unfortunate nap.” He held out his left hand, in which was a tiny fragment of envelope. “Vital portion of letter,” he added, “seems to have traveled elsewhere.”