— XVII —BRUTUM FULMEN *
[*] an empty threat
Campion’s state of mind as he followed Nebelsen down into the painting room was curiously contradictory; he could not divest himself of a feeling of awe at what he might be confronted with in another moment; at the same time he had an angry suspicion that he was being made a fool of. He could see nothing, for it was almost as dark as night, and besides, a large folding screen stood at the foot of the steps intercepting his view. Behind this screen Nebelsen made a fresh stand, There is yet anoder thing,” he whispered, “to transbort that idol he must first be in the hands taken!”
“Well,” said Campion, “I’ll fetch it for you, if that’s all.”
“But you don’t understandt!” exclaimed Nebelsen, “that is shust a thing what the tirthankar will never be
