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One frightened glance she cast in my direction, and would have hurried across the hall but I intercepted her. "Where are you going, Mrs. Fisher?" I demanded. "What has happened here?" "To Madame, to Madame," she sobbed, pointing toward the corridor which communicated with Madame de Staemer's bedchamber.
If she cares to see you I do not forbid the interview." "Oh, that's good of you, doctor." He bowed to Miss Beverley. "Perhaps, Miss, you would ask Madame de Staemer to see me for a few minutes." Val Beverley looked at me appealingly then shrugged her shoulders, turned aside, and walked in the direction of Madame de Staemer's door. "Well," said Dr.
Knox to be present at the interview." "Oh," said the Inspector, lowering his chin, "I see. Oh, very well." Madame de Staemer's apartment was a large and elegant one. From the window-drapings, which were of some light, figured satiny material, to the bed-cover, the lampshades and the carpet, it was French.
Madame de Staemer shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, blankly. "It is mysterious, the state of his health," she replied. "An old trouble, which began years and years ago in Cuba." Harley nodded sympathetically, but I could see that he was not satisfied. Yet, although he might doubt her explanation, he had noted, and so had I, that Madame de Staemer's concern was very real.
Rolleston's unpleasant suspicions might have solid foundation, and if the loss of her cousin had affected Madame de Staemer's brain. Presently, then, ushered by Val Beverley, I found myself once more in the violet and silver room in which on that great bed of state Madame reclined amid silken pillows.
I remember that having seen them off, Harley and I stood in the hall, staring at one another in a very odd way, and so we stood when Val Beverley came quietly from Madame de Staemer's room and spoke to us. "Pedro has told me what you have done, Mr. Harley," she said in a low voice. "Oh, thank God you have cleared him. But what, in Heaven's name, does your new discovery mean?"
Knox," she said. She spoke in a faintly husky manner which was curiously attractive, although lacking the deep, vibrant tones of Madame de Staemer's memorable voice. Her English was imperfect, but her accent good. "Your husband has been carrying me to enchanted lands, Mrs. Camber," I replied. "I have never known a morning to pass so quickly."
Paul Harley resumed his seat, staring at me with unseeing eyes. A sound reached us through the drawing room which told us that Madame de Staemer's chair was being taken upstairs, a task always performed when Madame desired to visit the upper floors by Manoel and Pedro's daughter, Nita, who acted as Madame's maid. These sounds died away, and I thought how silent everything had become.
Occupied with these, and even more troubled thoughts, I was making my way toward the library, undetermined how to act, when I saw Val Beverley coming along the corridor which communicated with Madame de Staemer's room. I read a welcome in her eyes which made my heart beat the faster. "Oh, Mr. Knox," she cried, "I am so glad you have returned.
"Don't let them trouble the ladies. And tell them as little as possible, yourself." The drone of the engine having died away down the avenue, I presently found myself alone, but as I crossed the hall in the direction of the library, intending to walk out upon the southern lawns, I saw Val Beverley coming toward me from Madame de Staemer's room.
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