De Peyster's Kirmanshah rug and parquet floor. But Mrs. De
Peyster was unconscious of this deluge. She gave Matilda a glance
of reproachful dismay; then she edged into the dimmest corner of the
dusky room and turned her chair away from the door through which this
new disaster was about to stalk in upon her, and unnoticed drew down
her veil.

There was a long, sickening wait. Plainly William had gone to bed, and
had to dress before he could answer the bell.

At length, however, William appeared. He started at sight of the four
figures; then his gaze fastened on Matilda and grew hard. Mrs. De
Peyster tried to collapse within herself.

"Friend," said the officer, "here's a lady as says she's Matilda
Simpson, Mrs. De Peyster's housekeeper. How about it?"

"She is," William affirmed coldly.

"The devil!" said the officer; and then in a low voice apart to
the other: "Lucky we didn't go no further--hey, Bill?" And again to
William: "Miss Simpson says this other lady is her sister, visitin'
her from Syracuse. Can you identify her?"

William did not alter a line in his face.

"Miss Simpson has a sister living near Syracuse. I have never seen
her. I cannot identify her."

"H'm," said the officer.

"Is that all?" asked William.

"Yes, that'll do. Thanks."

With a cold blighting glare at Matilda, William withdrew.

"Well, ladies," said the officer with ingratiating pleasantness, "I'm
mighty glad it's all right. If you have occasion, Miss Simpson, to
speak o' this here little incident to Mrs. De Peyster when she gets
back from Europe, just explain it as due to over-zealousness, if
you don't mind--desire to safeguard her interests. D'you get me?
Headquarters is awful sensitive to kicks from you rich people; and the
boss comes down on you like a ton o' bricks. It'll be mighty kind o'
you. Good-night. Don't bother to come down with us. I noticed it was a
spring lock. We can let ourselves out."

When the two policemen were out of the room, Mrs. De Peyster and
Matilda collapsed into each others' arms and their bodies sank limply
forward from their chairs upon the dining-table. "Matilda, what
an escape!" shivered Mrs. De Peyster; and she lay there, gathering
breath, regathering strength, regathering poise, while the officers'
steps grew dimmer and more dim. She was palpitant, yet able to think.
Certainly it had been a narrow escape. But that danger was now over.
There now remained only the feat of getting into her room, u