Part 2 (1/2)

The girl nodded.

”Her key!” And under his breath Calladine uttered a startled cry.

For the first time since she had entered the room Joan Carew raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were full of terror, and with the terror was mixed an incredulity as though she could not possibly believe that that had happened which she knew had happened.

”A little Yale key,” the girl continued. ”I saw Mrs. Blumenstein looking on the floor for something, and then I saw it s.h.i.+ning on the very spot. Mrs. Blumenstein's suite was on the same floor as mine, and her maid slept above. All the maids do. I knew that. Oh, it seemed to me as if I had sold my soul and was being paid.”

Now Calladine understood what she had meant by her strange phrase--”the safe daylight.”

”I went up to my little suite,” Joan Carew continued. ”I sat there with the key burning through my glove until I had given her time enough to fall asleep”--and though she hesitated before she spoke the words, she did speak them, not looking at Calladine, and with a shudder of remorse making her confession complete. ”Then I crept out.

The corridor was dimly lit. Far away below the music was throbbing. Up here it was as silent as the grave. I opened the door--her door. I found myself in a lobby. The suite, though bigger, was arranged like mine. I slipped in and closed the door behind me. I listened in the darkness. I couldn't hear a sound. I crept forward to the door in front of me. I stood with my fingers on the handle and my heart beating fast enough to choke me. I had still time to turn back. But I couldn't. There were those pearls in front of my eyes, l.u.s.trous and wonderful. I opened the door gently an inch or so--and then--it all happened in a second.”

Joan Carew faltered. The night was too near to her, its memory too poignant with terror. She shut her eyes tightly and cowered down in a chair. With the movement her cloak slipped from her shoulders and dropped on to the ground. Calladine leaned forward with an exclamation of horror; Joan Carew started up.

”What is it?” she asked.

”Nothing. Go on.”

”I found myself inside the room with the door shut behind me. I had shut it myself in a spasm of terror. And I dared not turn round to open it. I was helpless.”

”What do you mean? She was awake?”

Joan Carew shook her head.

”There were others in the room before me, and on the same errand--men!”

Calladine drew back, his eyes searching the girl's face.

”Yes?” he said slowly.

”I didn't see them at first. I didn't hear them. The room was quite dark except for one jet of fierce white light which beat upon the door of a safe. And as I shut the door the jet moved swiftly and the light reached me and stopped. I was blinded. I stood in the full glare of it, drawn up against the panels of the door, s.h.i.+vering, sick with fear. Then I heard a quiet laugh, and someone moved softly towards me.

Oh, it was terrible! I recovered the use of my limbs; in a panic I turned to the door, but I was too late. Whilst I fumbled with the handle I was seized; a hand covered my mouth. I was lifted to the centre of the room. The jet went out, the electric lights were turned on. There were two men dressed as apaches in velvet trousers and red scarves, like a hundred others in the ballroom below, and both were masked. I struggled furiously; but, of course, I was like a child in their grasp. 'Tie her legs,' the man whispered who was holding me; 'she's making too much noise.' I kicked and fought, but the other man stooped and tied my ankles, and I fainted.”

Calladine nodded his head.

”Yes?” he said.

”When I came to, the lights were still burning, the door of the safe was open, the room empty; I had been flung on to a couch at the foot of the bed. I was lying there quite free.”

”Was the safe empty?” asked Calladine suddenly.

”I didn't look,” she answered. ”Oh!”--and she covered her face spasmodically with her hands. ”I looked at the bed. Someone was lying there--under a sheet and quite still. There was a clock ticking in the room; it was the only sound. I was terrified. I was going mad with fear. If I didn't get out of the room at once I felt that I should go mad, that I should scream and bring everyone to find me alone with--what was under the sheet in the bed. I ran to the door and looked out through a slit into the corridor. It was still quite empty, and below the music still throbbed in the ballroom. I crept down the stairs, meeting no one until I reached the hall. I looked into the ballroom as if I was searching for someone. I stayed long enough to show myself. Then I got a cab and came to you.”

A short silence followed. Joan Carew looked at her companion in appeal. ”You are the only one I could come to,” she added. ”I know no one else.”

Calladine sat watching the girl in silence. Then he asked, and his voice was hard:

”And is that all you have to tell me?”