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Page 73
He had somewhat relaxed, but now as I continued to clutch his arm, I
felt the muscles grow rigid again.
"Look, Knox!" he whispered--"look!"
I followed the direction of his fixed stare, and through the trees on
the hillside a dim light shone out. Someone had lighted a lamp in the
Guest House.
A faint, sibilant sound drew my glance upward, and there overhead a bat
circled--circled--dipped--and flew off toward the distant woods. So
still was the night that I could distinguish the babble of the little
stream which ran down into the lake. Then, suddenly, came a loud
flapping of wings. The swans had been awakened by the sound of the
shot. Others had been awakened, too, for now distant voices became
audible, and then a muffled scream from somewhere within Cray's Folly.
"Back to the house, Knox," said Harley, hoarsely. "For God's sake keep
the women away. Get Pedro, and send Manoel for the nearest doctor. It's
useless but usual. Let no one deface his footprints. My worst
anticipations have come true. The local police must be informed."
Throughout the time that he spoke he continued to search the moon-
bathed landscape with feverish eagerness, but except for a faint
movement of birds in the trees, for they, like the swans on the lake,
had been alarmed by the shot, nothing stirred.
"It came from the hillside," he muttered. "Off you go, Knox."
And even as I started on my unpleasant errand, he had set out running
toward the gate in the southern corner of the garden.
For my part I scrambled unceremoniously up the bank, and emerged where
the yews stood sentinel beside the path. I ran through the gap in the
box hedge just as the main doors were thrown open by Pedro.
He started back as he saw me.
"Pedro! Pedro!" I cried, "have the ladies been awakened?"
"Yes, yes! there is terrible trouble, sir. What has happened? What has
happened?"
"A tragedy," I said, shortly. "Pull yourself together. Where is Madame
de St�mer?"
Pedro uttered some exclamation in Spanish and stood, pale-faced,
swaying before me, a dishevelled figure in a dressing gown. And now in
the background Mrs. Fisher appeared. One frightened glance she cast in
my direction, and would have hurried across the hall but I intercepted
her.
"Where are you going, Mrs. Fisher?" I demanded. "What has happened
here?"
"To Madame, to Madame," she sobbed, pointing toward the corridor which
communicated with Madame de St�mer's bedchamber.
I heard a frightened cry proceeding from that direction, and recognized
the voice of Nita, the girl who acted as Madame's maid. Then I heard
Val Beverley.
"Go and fetch Mrs. Fisher, Nita, at once--and try to behave yourself. I
have trouble enough."
I entered the corridor and pulled up short. Val Beverley, fully
dressed, was kneeling beside Madame de St�mer, who wore a kimono over
her night-robe, and who lay huddled on the floor immediately outside
the door of her room!
"Oh, Mr. Knox!" cried the girl, pitifully, and raised frightened eyes
to me. "For God's sake, what has happened?"
Nita, the Spanish girl, who was sobbing hysterically, ran along to join
Mrs. Fisher.
"I will tell you in a moment," I said, quietly, rendered cool, as one
always is, by the need of others. "But first tell me--how did Madame de
St�mer get here?"
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