But she did not fire again. Instead, there was a long, unbroken silence, during which, it seemed to me, I could feel my hair whitening on my head. I also became conscious of a stinging numbness in my right hand. Minute after minute pa.s.sed, and still no sound came from the outer cellar. I felt that if the silence endured a moment longer, I should shriek aloud.

"Lie still," whispered G.o.dfrey, at last, "and I'll try to find the torch. Did she hit you?"

"My hand feels numb."

"Let me see," and I felt his fingers touching it softly here and there. "It's just a scratch, I think. But wait till I find the torch."

I heard him groping about for it; then for a time all was still again. Suddenly, from an angle of the wall, a shaft of light shot about the cellar. It was empty.

"All right, Lester," said G.o.dfrey's voice. "Let's have a look at the hand."

I got up unsteadily and went to him. A moment's examination showed that my wound was indeed only a scratch. The bullet had grazed the back of the hand and struck the wrist-bone a glancing blow.

"We'll have it dressed as soon as we can," said G.o.dfrey. "And now the next thing is to get out of this place alive. Our enemy is probably lying in wait for us with a loaded gun at the top of the stairs. By the way, I caught only the merest glimpse of the face. Did you recognise it?"

"Yes," I said; "it was the elder Miss Kingdon."

G.o.dfrey gave a little whistle.

"It looked positively devilish," he said. "It gave me the worst scare I've had for a long time. Did you notice the eyes, how they glared at us?"

"Yes," I said, and shivered a little.

"I confess I don't like the thought of going up those stairs," he went on, "but there's no other way out. This window's too small. So we'll have to chance it. Give me your hand."

I stretched out my uninjured hand. In an instant we were in darkness, and I knew that he had exchanged the torch for his revolver.

"Come on," he whispered, and we started forward.

At the foot of the stair we paused for a moment, listening; but no sound came from above. We mounted a step, two steps, three--

Suddenly I felt a convulsive pressure on my hand. From above came a quick succession of sharp taps, as of some one rapping with his knuckles upon the wall. It rose, fell, rose again--

Involuntarily we retreated to the foot of the stair and took refuge against the farther wall. The light flashed out again, and I saw G.o.dfrey mopping his face with his handkerchief. As for myself, I was fairly bathed in perspiration.

"What was it?" I asked hoa.r.s.ely.

"I don't know," G.o.dfrey answered, in the same tone. "But I know one thing-if we stay down here much longer, we'll both of us lose our nerve completely. I'm going to make a dash for it," and he started for the cellar steps.

I followed him, clenching my teeth convulsively.

But again a sound from overhead stopped us-a quick step across the floor, the opening of a door, and then a scream so shrill, so agonised, that it made my heart stand still.

"Come on!" cried G.o.dfrey, and dashed up the stair.

In an instant, we reached the top. The kitchen was dark, but a stream of light poured through the open door from the room beyond. We sprang to it. I saw it was the dining-room; a light stood on the table and for a second I thought the room was empty. Then my ear caught a kind of dry sobbing, which seemed to come from one corner.

In an alcove between the chimney and the wall was a closet. Its door was open and, as we peered into it, I saw a woman's figure clothed in white straining at some dark and heavy object.

G.o.dfrey took but one glance at it.

"Good G.o.d!" he cried, and sprang into the closet. "Bring the light, Lester."

So shaken by I knew not what new horror that I could scarcely walk, I yet had self-control enough to obey. I tottered to the table, took up the lamp, and returned to the closet door. The rays of the light fell within, revealing the whole terrible scene-Lucy Kingdon and G.o.dfrey holding up a figure clothed in black, a figure which swayed and wabbled, turning at last so that I caught a glimpse of the swollen, distorted face-the same face which had glared at us around a corner of the cellar wall.

CHAPTER XVIII

A New Turn to the Puzzle

How we got her down, I scarcely know. I dimly remembered bringing a chair for G.o.dfrey and holding up the body for a dreadful instant while he severed the cord about the neck; but my first clear recollection is of her form upon a bed in the adjoining room, with G.o.dfrey bending over her and Lucy Kingdon standing by with such a face of anguish and despair that, for the first time since I had known her, I found it in my heart to pity her.

She had s.n.a.t.c.hed up some dark garment and thrown it over her night-dress, and she stood looking down at the limp form on the bed, with its hideous, staring face, as though struck to stone. All but her lips-they opened and shut, drinking the air in gasps, and from moment to moment she muttered to herself, "I should have known! I should have known! I should have known!"

At last G.o.dfrey stood erect and turned to her, and his face was very tender.

"It's no use," he said gently. "Perhaps we'd better summon a physician; but he can do nothing."

For a moment she did not seem to understand; then she suddenly threw her black hair out of her eyes and fell on her knees beside the bed. She caught one dead hand to her and fondled it and kissed it; while a great wave of sobbing swept over her.

"I should have known!" she repeated. "I should have known! It was my fault!"

I shuddered. Was it her fault? Had she been false to Marcia Lawrence, and her sister true, and was this the result of that treachery?

At last she controlled herself and stood erect, still quivering, but fairly calm. And some of her old proud, disdainful spirit returned to her.

"This gentleman I know," she said, with a little gesture in my direction, after looking at us a moment. "You," she added to G.o.dfrey, "I do not know."

"My name is G.o.dfrey," he answered. "I'm a friend of Mr. Lester's."

"And what are you doing here?"

Not until then did I think of our strange appearance, shoeless, covered from head to foot with yellow clay, spotted here and there with the blood which had dripped from my wound-astonishing objects, truly, to burst in upon a woman in the middle of the night! Even G.o.dfrey, ready in invention as was ever the wily Ulysses, found himself unable, for the moment, to explain.

"I suppose you were lurking about the house," she went on, her face darkening with sudden anger, "Mr. Lester, I know, has a fondness for doing that. No doubt you're also an amateur detective."

But G.o.dfrey had got back his self-possession.

"Something of the kind," he admitted good-humouredly. "We heard you scream and rushed to your a.s.sistance."

"You were very kind!" she sneered; then her face changed. "The door was locked," she said. "I locked it when I came home. How did you get in?" She glanced through the dining-room and saw that the door was still closed.

"It wasn't locked at the time we entered," explained G.o.dfrey coolly. "But that was nearly an hour ago. We were not lurking about the house, Miss Kingdon, when we heard you scream. We were in the cellar."

He was watching her keenly, but she showed no sign of understanding.

"In the cellar?" she repeated, and scanned our soiled clothes. "What were you doing there?"

"We were making some investigations," answered G.o.dfrey composedly. "Your sister discovered us there and took a shot at my friend here," and he pointed to my bleeding hand. "Luckily her aim was bad. Didn't you hear the shot?"