isturbed by those
piercing screams and by our own comings and goings seemed
unbelievable. Perhaps there were separate quarters in the grounds
somewhere--

And then, without conscious will of my own, I felt my body stiffen and
my fingers grip my pipe convulsively. A slow tremor seemed to start
from the end of my spine, travel up it, and pass off across my scalp.
There was someone in the room behind me; someone with gleaming eyes
fixed upon me; and I sat there rigidly, straining my ears, expecting
I knew not what--a blow upon the head, a cord about the neck.

A rapid step came up the walk and Godfrey appeared suddenly out of the
darkness.

"Well, Lester," he began; but I sprang to my feet and faced the room,
for I could have sworn that I had heard behind me the rustle of a
silken dress. But there was no one there except Swain and Miss Vaughan
and the dead man--and none of them had moved.

"What is it?" Godfrey asked, stepping past me into the room.

"There was someone there, Godfrey," I said. "I'm sure of it--I felt
someone--I felt his eyes on me--and then, as you spoke, I heard the
rustle of a dress."

"Of a dress?"

"Or of a robe," and my thoughts were on the bearded man upstairs.

Godfrey glanced at me, crossed the room, and looked out into the hall.
Then he turned back to me.

"Well, whoever it was," he said, and I could see that he thought my
ears had deceived me, "he has made good his escape. There'll be a
doctor and a nurse here in a few minutes, and I got Simmonds and told
him to bring Goldberger along. He can't get here for an hour anyway.
And I've got a change here for Swain," he added, with a gesture
toward some garments he carried over one arm; "also a bracer to be
administered to him," and he drew a flask from his pocket and handed
it to me. "Maybe you need one, yourself," he added, smiling drily,
"since you've taken to hearing rustling robes."

"I do," I said, "though not on that account," and I raised the flask
to my lips and took a long swallow.

"Suppose you take Swain up to the bath-room," Godfrey suggested, "and
help him to get cleaned up. I'll go down to the gate and wait for the
doctor."

"The gate's probably locked."

"I thought of that," and he drew a small but heavy hammer from his
pocket. "I'll smash the lock, if there's no other way. I'd like you to
get Swain into shape before anyone arrives," he added. "He's not a
prepossessing object as he is."

"No, he isn't," I agreed, loo