When I sat down, next morning, beside Miss Kemball, she closed her
book, and turned to me with a very determined air.
"Of course, Mr. Lester," she began, "if you think any harm can come
from telling me, I don't want you to say a word; but I really think
I'm entitled to an explanation."
"So do I," I agreed. "You've proved yourself a better guard than I.
I'd forgotten all about Martigny--I was thinking, well, of something
very different--I had no thought of danger."
"Nor had I," she said quickly. "But I chanced to look up and see that
dark figure bending over them, and I cried out, really, before I had
time to think--involuntarily."
"It was just that which saved them. If you'd stopped to think, it
would have been too late."
"Yes--but, oh, I could think afterwards! I'd only to close my eyes,
last night, to see him there yet, peering down at us, waiting his
opportunity. And then, of course, I puzzled more or less, over the
whole thing."
"You shan't puzzle any more," I said, and looked about to make certain
that there was no one near. Then, beginning with the death of Hiram
Holladay, I laid the case before her, step by step. She listened with
clasped hands and intent face, not speaking till I had finished. Then
she leaned back in her chair with a long sigh.
"Why, it's horrible!" she breathed.
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