his coat was not
the same shade of scarlet as the rest of the cloth, and the stain had
a bullet hole in its center.

Sir Pierre looked at him without moving for a long moment. Then he
stepped over, knelt, and touched one of the Count's hands with the
back of his own. It was quite cool. He had been dead for hours.

"I knew someone would do you in sooner or later, my lord," said Sir
Pierre, almost regretfully.

Then he rose from his kneeling position and walked out without another
look at his dead lord. He locked the door of the suite, pocketed the
key, and went back downstairs in the elevator.

* * * * *

Mary, Lady Duncan stared out of the window at the morning sunlight and
wondered what to do. The Angelus bell had awakened her from a fitful
sleep in her chair, and she knew that, as a guest at Castle D'Evreux,
she would be expected to appear at Mass again this morning. But how
could she? How could she face the Sacramental Lord on the altar--to
say nothing of taking the Blessed Sacrament itself.

Still, it would look all the more conspicuous if she did not show up
this morning after having made it a point to attend every morning with
Lady Alice during the first four days of this visit.

She turned and glanced at the locked and barred door of the bedroom.
_He_ would not be expected to come. Laird Duncan used his wheelchair
as an excuse, but since he had taken up black magic as a hobby he had,
she suspected, been actually afraid to go anywhere near a church.

If only she hadn't lied to him! But how could she have told the truth?
That would have been worse--infinitely worse. And now, because of that
lie, he was locked in his bedroom doing only God and the Devil knew
what.

If only he would come out. If he would only stop whatever it was he
had been doing for all these long hours--or at least finish it! Then
they could leave Evreux, make some excuse--any excuse--to get away.
One of them could feign sickness. Anything, anything to get them out
of France, across the Channel, and back to Scotland, where they would
be safe!

She looked back out of the window, across the courtyard, at the
towering stone walls of the Great Keep and at the high window that
opened into the suite of Edouard, Count D'Evreux.

Last night she had hated him, but no longer. Now there was only room
in her heart for fear.

She buried her face in her hands and cursed herself for a fool. There
were no tears left