The Face and the Mask by Robert Barr (books to read in your 20s female .txt) 📕

They waited near, until the spots caused by the fluid on the stone pavement in front of the house had disappeared.

“By the time we reach the hill,” said Lambelle, “it will be quite dry in this hot sun.”

As they departed towards the elevation, the forlorn dog howled mournfully, as if in premonition of his fate.

“I think, to make sure,” said the inventor, when they reached the electrical apparatus, “that we might wait for half an hour.”

The Minister lit a cigarette, and smoked silently, a strange battle going on in his mind. He found himself believing in the extraordinary claims made by the inventor, and his thought dwelt on the awful possibilities of such an explosive.

“Will you press the electric lever?” asked Lambelle quietly. “Remember that you are inaugurating a new era.”

The Minister pressed down the key, and then, putting his field-glass to his eye, he saw that the dog was released, but the animal sat there scratching its ear with its paw. Then, realizing that it was loose, it sniffed for a moment at the chain. Finally, it threw up its head and barked, although the distance was too great for them to hear any sound. The dog started in the direction the two men had gone, but, before it had taken three steps, the Minister was appalled to see the buildings suddenly crumble into dust, and a few moments later the thunder of the rocks falling into the deserted quarry came toward them. The whole ledge had been flung forwards into the chasm. There was no smoke, but a haze of dust hovered over the spot.

“My God!” cried the Minister. “That is awful!”

“Yes,” said Lambelle quietly; “I put more of the substance on the flagging than I need to have done. A few drops would have answered quite as well, but I wanted to make sure. You were very sceptical, you know.”

The Minister looked at him. “I beg of you, M. Lambelle, never to divulge this secret to the Government of France, or to any other power. Take the risk of it being discovered in the future. I implore you to reconsider your original intention. If you desire money, I will see that you get what you want from the secret funds.”

Lambelle shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no desire for money,” he said; “but what you have seen will show you that I shall be the most famous scientist of the century. The name of Lambelle will be known till the end of the world.”

“But, my God, man!” said the Minister, “the end of the world is here the moment your secret is in the possession of another. With you or me it would be safe: but who can tell the minds of those who may follow us? You are putting the power of the Almighty into the hands of a man.”

Lambelle flushed with pride as the pale-faced Minister said this.

“You speak the truth!” he cried, “it is the power of Omnipotence.”

“Then,” implored the Minister, “reconsider your decision.”

“I have labored too long,” said Lambelle, “to forego my triumph now. You are convinced at last, I see. Now then, tell me: will you, as Minister of France, secure for your country this greatest of all inventions?”

“Yes,” answered the Minister; “no other power must be allowed to obtain the secret. Have you ever written down the names of the ingredients?”

“Never,” answered Lambelle.

“Is it not possible for any one to have suspected what your experiments were? If a man got into your laboratory—a scientific man—could he not, from what he saw there, obtain the secret?”

“It would be impossible,” said Lambelle. “I have been too anxious to keep the credit for myself, to leave any traces that might give a hint of what I was doing.”

“You were wise in that,” said the Minister, drawing a deep breath. “Now let us go and look at the ruins.”

As they neared the spot the official’s astonishment at the extraordinary destruction became greater and greater. The rock had been rent as if by an earthquake, to the distance of hundreds of yards.

“You say,” said the Minister, “that the liquid is perfectly safe until evaporation takes place.”

“Perfectly,” answered Lambelle. “Of course one has to be careful, as I told you, in the use of it. You must not get a drop on your clothes, or leave it anywhere on the outside of the bottle to evaporate.”

“Let me see the stuff.”

Lambelle handed him the bottle.

“Have you any more of this in your laboratory?”

“Not a drop.”

“If you wished to destroy this, how would you do it?”

“I should empty the bottle into the Seine. It would flow down to the sea, and no harm would be done.”

“See if you can find any traces of the dog,” said the Minister. “I will clamber down into the quarry, and look there.”

“You will find nothing,” said Lambelle confidently.

There was but one path by which the bottom of the quarry could be reached. The Minister descended by this until he was out of sight of the man above; then he quickly uncorked the bottle, and allowed the fluid to drip along the narrowest part of the path which faced the burning sun. He corked the bottle, wiped it carefully with his handkerchief, which he rolled into a ball, and threw into the quarry. Coming up to the surface again, he said to the mild and benevolent scientist: “I cannot find a trace of the dog.”

“Nor can I,” said Lambelle. “Of course when you can hardly find a sign of the building it is not to be expected that there should be any remnants of the dog.”

“Suppose we get back to the hill now and have lunch,” said the Minister.

“Do you wish to try another experiment?”

“I would like to try one more after we have had something to eat. What would be the effect if you poured the whole bottleful into the quarry and set it off?”

“Oh, impossible!” cried Lambelle. “It would rend this whole part of the country to pieces. In fact, I am not sure that the shock would not be felt as far as Paris. With a very few drops I can shatter the whole quarry.”

“Well, we’ll try that after lunch. We have another dog left.”

When an hour had passed, Lambelle was anxious to try his quarry experiment.

“By-and-by,” he said, “the sun will not be shining in the quarry, and then it will be too late.”

“We can easily wait until