the mysterious summons for help. "But you andyour horse must remain here and rest. I shall return to Lydford in thecar."
Full of anxiety, I put on my mackintosh and cap, for it was rainingsteadily, and within a quarter of an hour of receiving the note I wasalready on my way along the autumn-tinted roads.
The morning was that of the first of November. Regardless ofspeed-limits or of police-traps, I tore along until, just before eleven,I again pulled up at the ancient stone porch of the Hall.
A maid-servant opened the door, and I eagerly inquired for Miss Seymour.
"She's very ill, sir," was the girl's reply. "Mr Shaw's been called onthe Bench this morning, but he'll be back in an hour. Doctor Redwood ishere, sir."
"Redwood! Then what's the matter?" I gasped.
"I hardly know, sir. But here's Mrs Howard!" and looking along thewide hall I saw the grave-faced woman in black standing out of thelight.
"Oh, Mrs Howard?" I cried, walking up to her. "What's happened toMiss Asta? Tell me. Is she ill?"
"Very, I'm afraid, sir," replied the housekeeper in a low voice. "Thedoctor is upstairs with her. What happened in the night was mostextraordinary and mysterious."
"Tell me--tell me all, I beg of you," I cried quickly.
"Well, sir, it was like this," said the woman. "Last night, abouteleven, I heard Miss Asta go along the corridor past my room, anddownstairs into the servants' quarters. She was gone, perhaps, twentyminutes, and then I heard her repass again to her room and lock thedoor. I know she did that, because I heard it lock distinctly. MissAsta sleeps at the other end of the corridor to where I sleep--just atthe corner as you go round to the front staircase. Well, I suppose,after that I must have dropped off to sleep. But just after two o'clockwe were all awakened by hearing loud, piercing screams of terror. Atthe first moment of awakening I was too frightened to move, butrealising that it was Miss Asta I jumped up instantly, slipped on adressing-gown, and ran along to the door of her room. Several of theother servants, awakened by the cries, were out in the corridor. Shehad, however, locked her door, and we could not get in. I shouted toher to open it, for she was still shrieking, but she did not do so. Atthat moment Mr Shaw came along in his dressing-gown, greatly alarmed,and with his assistance we burst in the door."
"Then he helped you to do that?"
"Yes, sir," replied the woman. "Inside, we found the poor young lady inher nightdress crouched down on the floor by the ottoman at the foot ofthe bed. She was still crying hysterically and quivering with fear fromhead to foot. I bent, and taking her in my arms asked her what was thematter, for as we had entered, somebody had switched on the electriclight. For a moment she looked at me fixedly with a strange intenseexpression, as though she did not recognise me. Then she gasped thewords: `Death!--hand!--hand!' That was all. Next moment she fell backin my arms, and I thought her dead. Mr Shaw was beside himself withgrief. He helped to lift her on to her bed and tried all he could torestore her with brandy and sal volatile, but without avail. In themeanwhile I had telephoned to Doctor Redwood, who arrived about half anhour later, and he's been here ever since."
"And how is Miss Asta now?" I inquired eagerly. "Still unconscious.The doctor has, I fear, but little hope of her recovery, sir. She has,he declared, received some great and terrible shock which has affectedher heart."
The circumstances were strangely parallel with those of Guy Nicholson'smysterious end.
"No one has formed any conclusion of what caused the shock?"
"No, sir. None of us, not even the doctor, can guess what `hand' and`death' could signify more than the usual figure of speech," the womanreplied. "To me, when she spoke, she seemed to be strangely altered.Her poor face seemed thin, pinched, and utterly bloodless, and when shefell back into my arms I was convinced that the poor thing had gone."
"You are quite certain the door of her room was locked?"
"Absolutely. I heard her lock it, as was her habit, and being the firstperson there on hearing the screams for help, I tried the door and foundit still secured on the inside. Mr Shaw is half demented, and wouldnot at first leave the poor young lady's side--until compelled to go tothe Petty Sessions. It seems that there is an important case, and noother magistrate is at home to take his place on such short notice. ButI'm expecting him back at any moment now."
"And is Miss Asta still in her room?" I asked. "I think you said thatthe door was broken open."
"Yes, sir. For that reason we've carried her into the green guest-room,which is lower down the corridor, nearer to my own."
"Thank you, Mrs Howard," I said. "I'll go up and find the doctor. Iknow my way." Then, in quick anxiety, I breathlessly ascended thebroad, thickly carpeted oak staircase, and a few moments later was inthe room which I knew, by the door, was the apartment in which the weirdoccurrence had taken place.
I recollected only too vividly my own terrible experience, and by thoseejaculations which had so puzzled everybody, I knew that she had againwitnessed that claw-like hand.
The room, cosy, well-furnished and upholstered in pretty cretonne, wasin great disorder. The bed--a brass one, with cretonne hangings overthe head to match the furniture--was tumbled with half the clothes uponthe floor, while the green satin down-quilt had been tossed somedistance away. A chair lay overturned, and water and towels were about,showing the attempts at restoration.
Upon a little wicker-table near the bed stood a shaded electric light,and a novel which my love had evidently been reading on the previousnight, lay open. Yet though I investigated the room with carefuldeliberation, fearing every moment lest Shaw should return, I coulddetect nothing to account for the singular phenomenon.
The window stood slightly open, but Mrs Howard had explained how it hadbeen unlatched by herself.
I examined the lock of the door. The key was still on the inside, whilethe hasp was broken; while the hasp of a small brass safety-bolt abovehad also been forced off. Hence the door must have been both locked andbolted. Certainly there could have been no intruder in that room.
One object caused me curiosity, and my heart beat quickly. Upon themantelshelf was a little framed snapshot of myself and her father whichshe had one day taken outside the Casino at Aix.
But what had she seen within that room to cause her such a shock--nay,to produce upon her almost exactly the same symptoms which in the caseof Guy Nicholson had terminated fatally?
I heard a footstep in the corridor, and emerging from the room came faceto face with the fussy old doctor in his rough tweeds.
My unexpected appearance caused him to utter an exclamation of surprise,but when I asked breathlessly for news of his patient, he looked verygrave and said--
"A weak heart, and brain trouble, my dear Mr Kemball. To tell youfrankly, alas! I fear the worst."
"Come here a moment," I said, taking him by the arm and pulling him intothe disordered bedroom. "Now," I added, as I pushed the door to as wellas it would go. "Tell me truthfully. Doctor Redwood, what do you makeof this affair?"
"Nothing at present," he replied with a peculiar sniff, a habit of his,"Can't make it out at all. But I don't like the symptoms. Only onceshe has spoken. In her delirium she whispered something about a hand.She must have _seen_ something or other--something uncanny, I think.And yet what can there be here?" he asked, gazing amazedly round theapartment.
"Look here, Redwood," I exclaimed firmly, "the facts are very similar tothose at Titmarsh. Poor Nicholson saw _Something_, you'll recollect.And he had locked himself in--just as Miss Seymour did."
The doctor stroked his ruddy, clean-shaven chin.
"I quite admit that in many of the details it is quite a parallel case.But I am hoping to get the young lady round sufficiently to describewhat happened. The servants say that the screams were loud piercingones of horror and terror. Shaw himself told me that he had thegreatest difficulty in breaking down the door. They found her croucheddown in fear--yonder, behind the ottoman. And she shrieked out
something about a hand. To what could she have referred, do you think?She's quite sane and of perfectly sound mind, or I should attribute theaffair to some hallucination."
"It was more than hallucination," I assured him, recollecting my ownexperience, yet determined not to assist him towards the elucidation ofthe mystery. The dead man had evidently made a discovery immediately,before his fatal seizure. I recollected that brief urgent note ofAsta's. Had she, too, made a similar discovery?
Yes. There could be no evasion of the fact. The two cases were inevery way identical.
For nearly a quarter of an hour I stood discussing the amazing affairwith Redwood. I could see that