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scious, very pale, and alarmingly limp. I picked her up and carried her into the next room, where there was a sofa, while Jerome went for water and Charlotte brought smelling-salts.
Neither of these had any effect. Ariadne seemed to be scarcely breathing; her heart beat only faintly, and there was no response to such other methods as friction, slapping, or pinching of fingernails.
"We had better call a doctor," decided Charlotte promptly, and went to the phone.
I picked up the card which the Rhamda had left. It contained simply his name, together with one other word--the name of a morning newspaper. Evidently he meant for us to insert an advertisement as soon as we were ready to capitulate.
"Not yet!" the three of us decided, after talking it over. And we waited as patiently as we could during the fifteen minutes that elapsed before the telephoning got results.
It brought Dr. Hansen, who, it may be remembered, was closely identified with the Chick Watson disappearance. He made a rapid but very careful examination.
"It has all the appearance of a mild electric shock. What caused it, Fenton?"
I told him. His eyes narrowed when I mentioned Avec, then widened in astonishment and incredulity as I related the man's inexplicable effect upon the girl, and his strange immunity to the poison gas. But the doctor asked nothing further about our situation, proceeding at once to apply several restoratives. All were without result. As a final resort, he even rigged up an electrical connection, making use of some coils which I had upstairs, and endeavoured to arouse the girl in that fashion. Still without result.
"Good Lord, Hansen!" I finally burst out, when he stood back, apparently baffled. "She's simply GOT to be revived! We can't allow her to succumb to that scoundrel's power, whatever it is!"
"Why not a blood transfusion?" I asked eagerly, as an idea came to me. "I'm in perfect condition. What about it? Go to it, doc!"
He slowly shook his head. And beyon