e trembling hand of him who raised it and let it fall.
He drew back, to stand listening intently till Miss Jerrold spoke.
"He must be out," said the lady quietly. "Knock again, Mr Guest."
The knocker once more raised the echoes of the weird-looking old
staircase, and then died out above with a peculiar whisper, while
Guest's heart sank within his breast as a dozen fancies now took
possession of him, and horror prevailed.
"We cannot stay here," said Miss Jerrold. "Mr Guest, will you see me
to my carriage again? Mr Stratton must be out. Gone to Bourne Square,
and we have passed him on the way."
"No!" thundered the admiral; "he is within there, hiding, like the cur
he is, and afraid to face me!"
Guest turned upon him angrily.
"Come away, sister," growled the old man; "I am right."
"No, sir; I swear you are wrong," cried Guest.
"What? Why, I saw the change in your face, man, when I heard a rustling
noise in there. You heard it too. Deny it if you can."
Guest was silent for a moment, and he stood with his eyes fixed upon the
letter-box, as if expecting to see the cover of the slit move.
"I am not going to deny it, sir; I did hear a sound," he said. "If he
is here he shall come out and face you, and tell the truth and reason of
his absence. It is illness, I am sure."
As he spoke he once more seized the knocker and beat out a heavy
_roulade_.
But still there was no reply, and, taking his sister's hand, the admiral
drew it through his arm.
"Illness?" he said in a low growl. "Yes, the shivering fit of a coward
or a cur."
"It is not true!" cried Guest excitedly as a thought flashed across his
brain. "I remember now: he had a heavy sum of money on the table when I
was here, and--Great Heavens! is it that?"
His manner was contagious, and his face conveyed his terrible thoughts
to his companions.
Miss Jerrold clung to her brother, and turned ghastly pale, while a look
of horror contracted the old man's face.
"You--you don't think--" he stammered.
"I think the worst, or my poor friend would have been with us."
"Man--for God's sake don't say that," gasped the admiral, as Guest
stepped back to the full extent of the landing.
"There is some mystery here."
"Stop! What are you going to do?" cried Sir Mark, catching at his arm.
"Stand aside, sir; I am going to burst open that door."
CHAPTER SEVEN.
TWO YEARS BEFORE.
Blue sky, the bluest of blue water, margined with g
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