"Where are you, Pinsent? are you hurt?" he cried.
I did not answer, but, following his glance, I looked at the couch and there I saw what utterly astounded me. The mummy of Ptahmes lay upon the couch in exactly the same attitude as when Belleville had flung it there aside from the sarcophagus. Who, then, or what, had set me free? I examined the apartment eagerly, but saw nothing living save Belleville, who with cocked revolver thrust out before him now stepped forward cautiously into the room, waving his arms about him as he walked, and muttering, as he walked, through clenched teeth a string of angry blasphemies.
The advantage I possessed was dangerously minimised by my physical incapacity, but I hoped, given time, to get back some measure of strength. The great thing was to preserve my liberty until I had acquired force enough to use it. I speedily realised that I could not remain where I was, for Belleville was making towards me and reflection would soon teach him that weakness would compel me to seek a prop for my support. But I feared to move lest the sound should betray my whereabouts. For the same reason I almost feared to breathe. I thought to myself, "Oh, that he would fire again so that I could move elsewhere under cover of the noise."
Once or twice he seemed to look me in the eye. He made a zigzag to my chair. There he paused and listened. I ceased to breathe. Only six feet separated us. But impatience consumed him. "Tell me where you are!" he growled, "or by the Lord when I catch you I'll tear you limb from limb." I breathed while he spoke and ceased when he stopped.
"You can't escape me!" he snarled. "I've only to light my blue lamp and I'll find you in a minute. But if you put me to that trouble and make me waste my precious oil besides, well, look out, that's all!"
I clenched and unclenched my hands; the use of them was coming back to me.