Part 53 (1/2)

'Mrs. Rolfe, I shall most likely have to send for help. You mustn't be seen here. It's nothing to me why you came--yes, yes, I believe you--but you must go at once.'

'You won't speak of it?'

Her appeal was that of a child, helpless in calamity. Again she caught his hand, as if clinging for protection. Hugh replied in thick, hurried tones.

'I have enough trouble of my own. This is no place for you. For your own sake, if not for your husband's, keep away from here. I came because someone was telling foul lies--the kind of lies that drive a man mad. Whatever happens--whatever you hear--don't imagine that _she_ is to blame. You understand me?'

'No word shall ever pa.s.s my lips!'

'Go at once. Get home as soon as you can.'

Alma turned to go. Outside, she cast one glance at the dark, silent, unmoving form, then bowed her head, and hastened away into the darkness.

Again Hugh knelt by Redgrave's side, raised his head, listened for the beating of his heart, tried to feel his breath. He then dragged him into the room, and placed him upon a divan; he loosened the fastenings about his neck; the head drooped, and there was not a sign of life.

Next he looked for a bell; the electric b.u.t.ton caught his eye, and he pressed it. To prevent any one from coming in, he took his stand close by the door. In a moment there was a knock, the door opened, and he showed his face to the surprised maid-servant.

'Is Mrs. Lant in the house?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Mr. Redgrave wants her at once; he is ill.'

The servant vanished. Keeping his place at the door, and looking out into the hall, Hugh, for full two minutes, heard no movement; then he was startled by a low voice immediately behind him.

'What are you doing here?'

The housekeeper, who had entered from the garden, and approached in perfect silence, stood gazing at him; not unconcerned, but with full command of herself.

'Look!' he replied, pointing to the figure on the divan. 'Is he only insensible--or dead?'

She stepped across the room, and made a brief examination by the methods Carnaby himself had used.

'I never saw any one look more like dead,' was her quiet remark. 'What have you been up to? A little quiet murder?'

'I met him outside. We quarrelled, and I knocked him down.'

'And why are you here at all?' asked the woman, with fierce eyes, though her voice kept its ordinary level.

'Because of you and your talk--curse you! Can't you do something? Get some brandy; and send someone for a doctor.'

'Are you going to be found here?' she inquired meaningly.

Hugh drew a deep breath, and stared at the silent figure. For an instant his face showed irresolution; then it changed, and he said harshly--'Yes, I am. Do as I told you. Get the spirits, and send someone--sharp!'

'Mr. Carnaby, you're a great blundering thickhead--if you care for my opinion of you. You deserve all you've got and all you'll get.'

Hugh again breathed deeply. The woman's abuse was nothing to him.

'Are you going to do anything!' he said. 'Or shall I ring for someone else?'