A trap!
He saw it now.
"Where's your mistress?"
"Went out ten minutes ago."
A trap!
And he had walked into it like a lamb.
A clever devil, this Olga Stormer; she had rid herself of a rival, and he was to suffer for the deed.
Murder!
My God, they hung a man for murder!
And he was innocent - innocent!
A stealthy rustle recalled him.
The little maid was sidling towards the door.
Her wits were beginning to work again.
Her eyes wavered to the telephone, then back to the door.
At all costs he must silence her.
It was the only way.
As well hang for a real crime as a fictitious one.
She had no weapon, neither had he.
But he had his hands!
Then his heart gave a leap.
On the table beside her, almost under her hand, lay a small, jeweled revolver.
If he could reach it first -
Instinct or his eyes warned her.
She caught it up as he sprang and held it pointed at his breast.
Awkwardly as she held it, her finger was on the trigger, and she could hardly miss him at that distance.
He stopped dead.
A revolver belonging to a woman like Olga Stormer would be pretty sure to be loaded.
But there was one thing, she was no longer directly behind him and the door.
So long as he did not attack her, she might not have the nerve to shoot.
Anyway, he must risk it.
Zigzagging, he ran for the door, through the hall and out through the outer door, banging it behind him.
He heard her voice, faint and shaky, calling,
"Police, Murder!"
She'd have to call louder than that before anyone was likely to hear her.
He'd got a start, anyway.
Down the stairs he went, running down the open street, then slacking to a walk as a stray pedestrian turned the corner.
He had his plan cut and dried.
To Gravesend as quickly as possible.
A boat was sailing from there that night for the remoter parts of the world.
He knew the captain, a man who, for a consideration, would ask no questions.
Once on board and out to sea he would be safe.
IV At eleven o'clock Danahan's telephone rang.
Olga's voice spoke.
"Prepare a contract for Miss Ryan, will you?
She's to understudy 'Cora'.
It's absolutely no use arguing.
I owe her something after all the things I did to her tonight!
What?
Yes, I think I'm out of my troubles.
By the way, if she tells you tomorrow that I'm an ardent spiritualist and put her into a trance tonight, don't show open incredulity.