Naturally
my thoughts went revolving round the main incidents of the last day and
night, and I found myself arriving at strange conclusions, doubts,
conjectures; but I did not lose myself, as on last night, in trains of
thought. The sense of the present was ever with me, and I really felt
as should a sentry on guard. Thinking is not a slow process; and when
it is earnest the time can pass quickly. It seemed a very short time
indeed till the door, usually left ajar, was pulled open and Dr.
Winchester emerged, taking off his respirator as he came. His act,
when he had it off, was demonstrative of his keenness. He turned up
the outside of the wrap and smelled it carefully. “I am going now,” he said. “I shall come early in the morning; unless,
of course, I am sent for before. But all seems well tonight.”

The next to appear was Sergeant Daw, who went quietly into the room and
took the seat vacated by the Doctor. I still remained outside; but
every few minutes looked into the room. This was rather a form than a
matter of utility, for the room was so dark that coming even from the
dimly-lighted corridor it was hard to distinguish anything. A little before twelve o’clock Miss Trelawny came from her room. Before coming to her father’s she went into that occupied by Nurse
Kennedy. After a couple of minutes she came out, looking, I thought, a
trifle more cheerful. She had her respirator in her hand, but before
putting it on, asked me if anything special had occurred since she had
gone to lie down. I answered in a whisper—there was no loud talking
in the house tonight—that all was safe, was well. She then put on her
respirator, and I mine; and we entered the room. The Detective and the
Nurse rose up, and we took their places. Sergeant Daw was the last to
go out; he closed the door behind him as we had arranged. For a while I sat quiet, my heart beating. The place was grimly dark. The only light was a faint one from the top of the lamp which threw a
white circle on the high ceiling, except the emerald sheen of the shade
as the light took its under edges. Even the light only seemed to
emphasize the blackness of the shadows. These presently began to seem,
as on last night, to have a sentience of their own. I did not myself
feel in the least sleepy; and each time I went softly over to look at
the patient, which I did about every ten minutes, I could see that Miss
Trelawny was keenly alert. Every quarter of an hour one or other of
the policemen looked in through the partly opened door. Each time both
Miss Trelawny and I said through our mufflers, “all right,” and the
door was closed again. As the time wore on, the silence and the darkness seemed to increase. The circle of light on the ceiling was still there, but it seemed less
brilliant than at first. The green edging of the lamp-shade became
like Maori greenstone rather than emerald. The sounds of the night
without the house, and the starlight spreading pale lines along the
edges of the window-cases, made the pall of black within more solemn
and more mysterious. We heard the clock in the corridor chiming the quarters with its silver
bell till two o’clock; and then a strange feeling came over me. I
could see from Miss Trelawny’s movement as she looked round, that she
also had some new sensation. The new detective had just looked in; we
two were alone with the unconscious patient for another quarter of an
hour. My heart began to beat wildly. There was a sense of fear over me. Not
for myself; my fear was impersonal. It seemed as though some new
person had entered the room, and that a strong intelligence was awake
close to me. Something brushed against my leg. I put my hand down
hastily and touched the furry coat of Silvio. With a very faint
far-away sound of a snarl he turned and scratched at me. I felt blood
on my hand. I rose gently and came over to the bedside. Miss
Trelawny, too, had stood up and was looking behind her, as though there
was something close to her. Her eyes were wild, and her breast rose and
fell as though she were fighting for air. When I touched her she did
not seem to feel me; she worked her hands in front of her, as though
she was fending off something. There was not an instant to lose. I seized her in my arms and rushed
over to the door, threw it open, and strode into the passage, calling
loudly:

“Help! Help!”

In an instant the two Detectives, Mrs. Grant, and the Nurse appeared on
the scene. Close on their heels came several of the servants, both men
and women. Immediately Mrs. Grant came near enough, I placed Miss
Trelawny in her arms, and rushed back into the room, turning up the
electric light as soon as I could lay my hand on it. Sergeant Daw and
the Nurse followed me. We were just in time. Close under the great safe, where on the two
successive nights he had been found, lay Mr. Trelawny with his left
arm, bare save for the bandages, stretched out. Close by his side was
a leaf-shaped Egyptian knife which had lain amongst the curios on the
shelf of the broken cabinet. Its point was stuck in the parquet floor,
whence had been removed the blood-stained rug. But there was no sign of disturbance anywhere; nor any sign of any one
or anything unusual. The Policemen and I searched the room accurately,
whilst the Nurse and two of the servants lifted the wounded man back to
bed; but no sign or clue could we get. Very soon Miss Trelawny
returned to the room. She was pale but collected. When she came close
to me she said in a low voice:

“I felt myself fainting. I did not know why; but I was afraid!”

The only other shock I had was when Miss Trelawny cried out to me, as I
placed my hand on the bed to lean over and look carefully at her father:

“You are wounded. Look! look! your hand is bloody. There is blood on
the sheets!” I had, in the excitement, quite forgotten Silvio’s
scratch. As I looked at it, the recollection came back to me; but
before I could say a word Miss Trelawny had caught hold of my hand and
lifted it up. When she saw the parallel lines of the cuts she cried out
again:

“It is the same wound as Father’s!”  Then she laid my hand down gently
but quickly, and said to me and to Sergeant Daw:

“Come to my room! Silvio is there in his basket.”  We followed her,
and found Silvio sitting in his basket awake. He was licking his paws. The Detective said:

“He is there sure enough; but why licking his paws?”

Margaret—Miss Trelawny—gave a moan as she bent over and took one of
the forepaws in her hand; but the cat seemed to resent it and snarled. At that Mrs. Grant came into the room. When she saw that we were
looking at the cat she said:

“The Nurse tells me that Silvio was asleep on Nurse Kennedy’s bed ever
since you went to your Father’s room until a while ago. He came there
just after you had gone to master’s room. Nurse says that Nurse
Kennedy is moaning and muttering in her sleep as though she had a
nightmare.