The Radiant Shell | Page 8

each other, and back at the
blank wall from which had come the painfully muffled sound. Then all
sprang to their feet.
"Champagne, is it!" Kori exulted savagely. "Did I not say my eyes were
those of a hawk?"
"Double guard all doors!" roared the Arvanian leader, to the guards
outside. "Someone is in the house! And you in here," he went on in a
lower tone, "see that this unseen one dies!"
Soyo and several other men whipped out automatics and pointed them
at the wall. Thorn dropped to the floor. But with his quick action came
Kori's voice.
"No, no! The sword, gentlemen. It is not so noisy, and covers a wider
sweep."
Thorn shivered. Far rather would he have had bullets as his lot than
cold steel. The prospect of being hacked to pieces, of gradually
emerging from invisibility as a lump of gashed and bleeding flesh,
turned him faint.
* * * * *
The Arvanians split up into orderly formation. Two went to guard the
door to the butler's pantry, and two to cover the closed sliding doors to
the outer hall. Six, with drawn swords sweeping back and forth before
them, walked slowly toward the wall from which the sneeze had come.

Thorn set his jaws--only just catching himself in time to prevent his lips
from opening in the half-snarl instinctive to the most civilized of men
when danger is threatening. That lip motion would have revealed his
teeth for an instant!
The sensation of perspiring heavily flamed over him again. There were
so many trifling things to keep in mind! And each, if neglected,
meaning certain death!
The nearest of the marching six stopped with his foot almost touching
Thorn's hand. The dancing sword the man carried almost grazed the
scientist's shoulder on its down sweep.
Thorn could not stay there. Lying flat along the baseboard, he would be
stabbed at any instant by an inquiring sword point.
The six spread a little. A very little. But there was room enough for
Thorn to slide between the two men nearest him and roll soundlessly
under the table.
There was no sanctuary for him there. The cursed Kori, with his hawk
eyes, glanced under the table after stabbing vainly along the wall.
"The carpet!" he bellowed. "See how the nap is pressed down! He is
under there, comrades!"
The thrusting swords raked under the table a half second or so after
Thorn had rolled out the other side, upsetting a chair in his hurry.
"After him!" panted Soyo. "By the living God, this is wizardry! But he
must not get away--"
"He won't!" snapped the elderly leader. "Men, form a line at the far end
of the room and march slowly, shoulder to shoulder, to this end. The
spy must be caught!"
* * * * *
The move was executed. All the men in the room, save the four

guarding the doors, lined up and advanced slowly, swerving and
slashing their swords. Like a line of workers hand-harvesting a wheat
field they came--foot by foot toward the corner where Thorn turned this
way and that in a vain effort to escape.
The line reached the table. Over and under and around it the swords
slashed viciously, leaving no space unprobed.
Thorn clenched his fists. He gazed at the packet containing the Ziegler
plans. He gazed at the guarded door leading back to the kitchen. Then
he tensed himself and leaped.
"The plans!" shouted Kori hoarsely. "Look--"
The vital packet, as far as the eye could see, had suddenly grown wings,
soared from the table top, and was floating rapidly, convulsively,
toward the door.
"Stop him!" yelled Soyo. "Stop--"
At that instant the heads of the two who guarded the door were dashed
together. The door itself slammed open. The Ziegler plans sped into the
butler's pantry.
The door to the kitchen began to open just as Kori reached the pantry.
An oath burst from the Arvanian's lips. He flung his sword. In the air,
shoulder high, appeared suddenly a small fountain of blood. Kori yelled
triumphantly.
Thorn, feeling the warm drip following the glancing slash in his
shoulder, knew the veil of invisibility had at last been rent. Abandoning
efforts at noiselessness, knowing that his whereabouts was constantly
marked by the packet in his hand, anyway, he fled through the kitchen
to the rear door.
The bolt jerked back, under the astonished eyes of the five guards who
had not yet realized precisely what the commotion was all about--and
who only saw a packet of papers waving in mid-air, a trickle of blood

appearing out of nothing, and a bolt banging open in its slot for no
reason whatever.
* * * * *
Thorn's fingers worked feverishly at the chain. But before he could
begin