I spoke:

"Don't give me a thought! I don't deserve it. I was on guard, and yet
I slept. All that I can say is that I didn't mean to, and I tried to
avoid it; but it was over me before I knew it. Anyhow, it is done now;
and can't be undone. Probably some day we may understand it all; but
now let us try to get at some idea of what has happened. Tell me what
you remember!" The effort to recollect seemed to stimulate her; she
became calmer as she spoke:

"I was asleep, and woke suddenly with the same horrible feeling on me
that Father was in great and immediate danger. I jumped up and ran,
just as I was, into his room. It was nearly pitch dark, but as I
opened the door there was light enough to see Father's nightdress as he
lay on the floor under the safe, just as on that first awful night.
Then I think I must have gone mad for a moment." She stopped and
shuddered. My eyes lit on Sergeant Daw, still fiddling in an aimless
way with the revolver. Mindful of my work with the tourniquet, I said
calmly:

"Now tell us, Sergeant Daw, what did you fire at?" The policeman
seemed to pull himself together with the habit of obedience. Looking
around at the servants remaining in the room, he said with that air of
importance which, I take it, is the regulation attitude of an official
of the law before strangers:

"Don't you think, sir, that we can allow the servants to go away? We
can then better go into the matter." I nodded approval; the servants
took the hint and withdrew, though unwillingly, the last one closing
the door behind him. Then the Detective went on:

"I think I had better tell you my impressions, sir, rather than recount
my actions. That is, so far as I remember them." There was a mortified
deference now in his manner, which probably arose from his
consciousness of the awkward position in which he found himself. "I
went to sleep half-dressed--as I am now, with a revolver under my
pillow. It was the last thing I remember thinking of. I do not know
how long I slept. I had turned off the electric light, and it was
quite dark. I thought I heard a scream; but I can't be sure, for I
felt thick-headed as a man does when he is called too soon after an
extra long stretch of work. Not that such was the case this time.
Anyhow my thoughts flew to the pistol. I took it out, and ran on to
the landing. Then I heard a sort of scream, or rather a call for help,
and ran into this room. The room was dark, for