Myra had vanished!

When this cry resounded through the house, nobody seemed at first to understand its significance……Vanished?That didn't make sense!It was too unlikely.

Half an hour previously, Madame Roderich and Marc had been in the room where Myra was lying on her bed, already dressed for travelling, quite calm, and her regular breathing making her seem asleep.A little earlier she had taken some food from Marc's hand, and he had then gone down to dinner.The meal over, the Doctor and my brother had gone back to take her down to the coach.

It was then that there had fallen that dramatic blow.They could no longer see her in her bed.The room was empty.

‘Myra!'cried Marc, dashing towards the window and seizing its catch.But the window resisted his efforts;it was firmly closed.The kidnapping, if kidnapping it was, had not been carried out that way.

Madame Roderich came running, followed by Captain Haralan, and they went through the house calling for‘Myra!'……‘Myra!'

That she did not reply was easy to understand, for nobody had expected her to.But her absence from her room, how was that to be explained?Could she possibly have left her bed, passed through her mother's room, and gone down the stairs without being noticed?

I was in the coach arranging the luggage when I was startled by the cries.I went up to the first floor.

My brother, who kept repeating his wife's name in frantic tones, were rushing about like madmen.

‘Myra?'I asked.‘What are you saying, Marc?'

The Doctor had scarcely the strength to reply.‘My daughter—vanished.'

Madame Roderich had lost consciousness, and he had placed her on her bed.Captain Haralan, his face contorted and with staring eyes, came to me and said:‘Him……him again!'

But I tried to think I had not left the door of the gallery before which the coach was standing.How had Myra been able to pass through that door to get into the garden without my seeing her?Wilhelm Storitz invisible, granted!But she……

I went down into the gallery and called the servant.The garden gate opening on to the Boulevard Tékéli was firmly locked and I took away the key.Then the whole house, the attics, the cellars, the annexes, the tower right up to its terrace, I examined them all without leaving a corner unexplored.Then after the house, the garden……

I found nobody.

I went back to Marc.My poor brother was weeping openly, and giving heart-rending sobs.

To my mind, to warn the Chief of Police was the first thing to do.‘I'm going to the Town Hall.You come with me.'I told Captain Haralan.

The coach was still waiting.We took our places in it.As soon as the gate was opened to let us out, it set off at a gallop, and soon we had arrived.

M.Stepark was still in his study.I gave him our tidings.Though he normally never let himself be surprised, he could not hide his amazement.

‘Mademoiselle Roderich vanished!'he exclaimed.

‘Yes, 'I replied.‘It seems impossible, and yet it's true!Whether she's wandered away or been kidnapped, she's no longer there!'

‘There's that Storitz at the back of this!'muttered M.Stepark.Evidently he agreed with Captain Haralan.After a moment's silence he added, ‘This was no doubt the master-stroke he told his familiar spirit about.'

M.Stepark was right.Yes, Wilhelm Storitz had so to speak warned us of the harm he meant to do.And, fools that we were, we had taken no steps to defend ourselves.

‘Gentlemen, 'said M.Stepark, ‘will you come with me to the house?'

‘At once, 'I replied.

‘I'll be with you, gentlemen.Just time to give a few orders.'

He called a sergeant and told him to take a squad of police to Dr.Roderich's and to keep the house under surveillance all night.He next had a long discussion in low tones with his assistant, then the coach took the three of us to the doctor's.

The house was ransacked a second time, but in vain.But as he entered Myra's bedroom M.Stepark made a comment.‘M.Vidal, 'he asked me, ‘don't you smell a peculiar odour, one which has already reached our noses somewhere?'

And indeed there was still a vague smell in the air.I could remember it, and I replied, ‘Yes, M.Stepark, isn't it the smell of the liquid in that phial which got broken just as you were going to pick it up in Storitz'laboratory?'

‘That's it, M.Vidal, and that authorises several hypotheses.If, as I think, this liquid is the one which produces invisibility, perhaps Wilhelm Storitz made Mademoiselle Roderich drink it, and he's carried her off as invisible as himself.'

We were thunderstruck.Yes, that was what must have happened.I felt certain now that Wilhelm Storitz had been in his laboratory during the search, and that he had broken that phial, the liquid in which had evaporated so quickly, rather than let it fall into our hands.Yes, it was certainly that characteristic smell, a trace of which we could detect here.Yes, Wilhelm Storitz, helped by the comings and goings involved in our preparations for departure, had got into this room, and he had kidnapped Myra Roderich.

What a night we spent, I beside my brother, the Doctor beside Madame Roderich!With what impatience we waited for daylight!

Daylight……And what use would daylight be to us……Did the daylight exist for Wilhelm Storitz?Didn't he know that he was surrounded by impenetrable night?

M.Stepark did not leave us to report at the Residency until daybreak.Before going he took me aside and said these inexplicable words, especially inexplicable in these circumstances.‘Just one word, M.Vidal, 'he told me, ‘Don't lose heart, for unless I'm greatly mistaken, you're near the end of your distresses.'

I made no reply to these encouraging words, which seemed devoid of any sense, and I simply looked rather stupidly at the Chief of Police.Had I heard him correctly?I was completely at a loss, at the end of my strength and energy, and for the time being he could get nothing out of me.

Towards eight the Governor came to assure the Doctor that every effort should be made to recover his child.Dr.Roderich and I received this news with smiles of bitter incredulity.What, indeed, could the Governor do?

But from dawn news of the kidnapping had spread throughout Ragz, and the effect it produced is beyond my powers to describe.

Before nine, Lieut.Armgard appeared at the house and placed himself at his comrade's service.But, good Lord, what for?

However, it seemed that Captain Haralan did not agree with me in regarding that offer as useless, for he thanked his comrade briefly.Then, buckling on his sword-belt, he said only one word:

‘Come.'

As these two officers made for the door, I was seized with an irresistible desire to follow them.I suggested that Marc should come with us.Did he understand?I do not know.Anyhow he made no reply.

When I got outside the two officers were already walking down the river-bank.The few passers-by were looking at the house with affright mingled with horror.Was it not thence that had escaped this tempest of fear which had convulsed the whole town?

When I caught up with the two officers, Captain Haralan did not look at me, and I should not have been surprised if someone had told me he did not realise I was there.

‘You're coming with us?'Lieutenant Armgard asked me.

‘Yes.You're going……'

The lieutenant replied by a vague gesture.Where were we going……At random, it seemed.And indeed was not this the best course we could follow?

We walked somewhat uncertainly, without exchanging a word.At times Captain Haralan would pull up as though his feet had been nailed to the ground, and again ask the time.‘Nine twenty-five……half-past nine……twenty to ten, 'were his comrades replies, and at once the Captain went on his indecisive way.

Turning to the left, we passed in front of the Cathedral facade.

It seemed to be dead, this aristocratic quarter of Ragz;only a few passers-by hurried along, and most of the windows were closed, as though on a day of public mourning.

At the end of the street the Boulevard Tékéli appeared in all its length.It was deserted, or almost so.Since the fire, it had been shunned.

Which direction would the Captain choose—up towards the castle, or down towards the river?

Once again he had stopped, as though uncertain which course to adopt.The usual question fell from his lips:

‘What's the time, Armgard?'

‘Ten to ten, 'the lieutenant replied.

‘It's time, 'Haralan declared;then he strode rapidly up the Boulevard.

Crouched down against the ground, striving not to breathe, we stared with all our might.

All that remained were the remains of the walls, now blackened by the flames.At their feet lay stones, fragments of charred wood, twisted pieces of iron, piles of ashes, and the remains of the furniture.

We stared at that mass of destruction.Oh, why had not they burned that accurséd German as they had burned the house, and with him the secret of that frightful invention?

The lieutenant and I searched with our eyes the whole of that open space, then all at once we started violently.Less than thirty paces away, we had just caught sight of Captain Haralan, on the watch like ourselves on the edge of the thicket.At the place where he had stopped the thicket made a smooth curve towards the corner of the house, from which it was separated only by a walk about six yards wide.It was towards that corner that Captain Haralan was staring.He did not move.Crouching down, his muscles tense and ready to spring, he was like a wild beast about to spring.

We followed the direction of his stare, and at once realised what was attracting him.Something very strange was certainly happening there.Although we could not see anyone, the rubble was inexplicably moving.Slowly, cautiously, as if those responsible wanted to avoid attracting attention, the stones, the metalwork, the thousand-odd fragments heaped up here were being moved, thrust aside, piled up together.

In the grip of a mysterious dread, we looked on, our eyes seeming to start out of our heads.The truth dazzled us.Wilhelm Storitz was there.If the workers were invisible, their work was not.

Suddenly a cry rang out, uttered by a furious voice……From where we were we could see Captain Haralan leap up and bounded across the walk……He fell back at the edge of the ruins, as though he had run against some unseen obstacle……He strode forward, he recoiled, he opened his arms and closed them again and regained his balance like a wrestler grappling hand to hand……

‘Help!'he shouted.‘I've got him!'

The lieutenant and I dashed towards him.

‘I've got him, the scoundrel!I've got him!'he repeated.‘Help, Vidal!Help, Armgard!'

Then suddenly I felt myself hurled backwards by an arm which I could not see, while a hoarse breath reached my face.

Yes, it was a hand to hand struggle.He was there, the invisible man, Wilhelm Storitz or someone else!Whoever it might be, we had him in our hands and we should know how to make him tell us what had become of Myra.

Thus, as M.Stepark had pointed out, if he could destroy his visibility, at least his corporeal frame was left.It was not a ghost, it was a body which we were striving—at the cost of what efforts!—to reduce to impotence.

At last we succeeded.I held our invisible opponent by one arm, Lieut.Armgard held him by the other.

‘Where's Myra?Where's Myra?'Captain Haralan demanded in feverish tones.

No reply.The scoundrel was still struggling and striving to get away.We had to deal with a strong man who was making every effort to elude us.If he succeeded, he would escape across the garden or the ruins, he would reach the boulevard, and we should have to give up hope of ever again capturing him.

‘Will you tell us where Myra is?'Captain Haralan was at the height of his fury.

At last we heard these words:

‘Never!Never!'

So far as we could tell from the tones of that panting voice, it was certainly Wilhelm Storitz!

The struggle could not last.We were three against one, and however strong our opponent might be, he could not hold out forever.

Suddenly Lieutenant Armgard was thrust away and collapsed on the ground.Then almost at once I felt my leg being gripped.I was literally thrown head over heels, and I had to let go the arm I was holding, his sword was suddenly ripped out of its scabbard.An invisible hand was brandishing it.This hand was that of Wilhelm Storitz, now overcome by wrath.As he could not get away, at least he would take vengeance, he would kill Captain Haralan……

Following his enemy's example, the Captain had whipped out his sword.They were face to face as though in a duel, the one whom we could see, the other whom nobody could see……The two swords were clashing together, one held by a visible hand, the other by a hand we could not see……

That strange combat took place too quickly for us to intervene.

It was clear that Wilhelm Storitz knew how to handle a sword.As for Captain Haralan, he was attacking without even trying to defend himself.By a twist of his wrist, which was at once countered, he was struck in the shoulder……But his weapon had flashed forward.A cry of pain rang out……The grass on the lawn was flattened.

It was not the wind which was bending them.As we were soon able to verify, it was the weight of a human body, the weight of Wilhelm Storitz'body, pierced through and through and right in the chest……A jet of blood was spurting from it, and as the life left it, there was that invisible body gradually taking its material form, there it was reappearing in the last agony of death.

Captain Haralan had thrown himself upon Wilhelm Storitz.He shouted to him.

‘Myra?Where's Myra?'

But there was nothing there but a corpse, its face contorted, his eyes staring, its look still threatening, the visible corpse of that strange person who had been Wilhelm Storitz!