Evening star., 1933-07-02
CHAPTER VIII.
PERHAPS A TRAP.

PERHAPS A TRAP.
x YOU'RE a fooll" Madame Low
$ S: ;:,: e: IS: iss
Mr.. Sundean had nothing to do
with the murder. That clock sword
there are a dozen explanations. But the
, police won't believe them. Give 1t to
me-"
The man made Q protestant gesture,
but nevertheless handed her the sword,
and she took it coolly.
"I'll just wash this of and replace it
and nobody need know anything about
it."
Lovscheim looked blank.
That won't do at all" he said. II
don't know what you-"
"Lovschiem," she said sharply. Her
eyes queiled his. Yet there was no rea-
son that I could see for Nine. Low
schiems suddenly championing me.
Moreover, didn't know that wanted
her championship.
In the first place, If I let her do as
she proposed there was no danger of
the girl or me being accused of murder.
At the same time, if the truth eventually
came out, as it readily might, things
should give the Lovschienls q most de-
testable hold over me.
NO" I said. Well call the police
and let them know the whole thing,
dagger and all. didn't kill him. I'm
not afraid
She stopped and looked at me in
credulously. I saw then that her eyes
were green, impid and clear, and yet
with that look Of secret reflection that
| cats have.
mot afraidP" she said rather softly.
American, aren't you? Not bad-look-
ing, either. Accustomed to having your
own way, I suppose, with men-and
You are too kind, madame. You'll
leave the dagger exactly as 1t Is, please,
and your husband and I will wait to-
gether while you phone for the police"
"I'll do nothing of the kind" she said
and turned to the bath room, but I
caught her wrist and led her back to
the dead man. She did not protest or
even pull back when told her to place
the dagger on the dead mans chest, but
I did not release her wrist until she had
done SO, and her eyes shone like a cats
when the light strikes them.
She said nothing to me, however.
She gave her husband glance of scorn
and fury, but said in a smooth voice
that was under perfect control that
since Mr.. Sunbeam so wished, they
might as well call the police
Very WELL" said Lovschiem slug
gishly, as if his thoughts were sunk in
some dark mire. Call them"
She looked at him again in q kind
Of impatient scorn, shrugged lightly, and
then glanced all about.
Father Robart!" she said suddenly.
"Of course. Father Robart. I'll get
him at once. This-this dead man must
have prayers Immediately. A violent
death, without absolution. Besides, it Is
! not bad to give a more pious atmos
phere, eh?"
The fringes of her yellow scarf swirled
and vanished in the gloom of the long
corridor. Shadows followed her, and
the wind whispered, and the whisper
rose to a gust, and the whole place
ratified like a dead mans dry bones.
said to myself: It's nightmare. Ill
shut my eyes and then open them and
look directly at the mantel clock. The
sword will still be there, and 1t will all
have been dream.
The clock sword was, Of course, not
on the mantel; it was lying bloodstained
there below me, and the dead mans
face was real enough.
Lovschiem was standing quietly beside
me, his gaze, too, upon the dead man,
and his fat face only vaguely frightened
now, for he was still sunk deep in his
thoughts and looked more troubled and
perplexed than he looked frightened
thought of Sue as waited, of the
story she had told of her abduction
and the fact that she had not told
enough about the event. She had not
wanted me to look for her abductor, or
to tell either the police or the Low
schiems.
1t was all full of holes, and yet be-
lieved it. I was thinking how pleasant
it had been having her by my fireside
when remembered that she had sent
me for key that was not where she
had said it would be.
While / was gone murder had been
done, and the sword from the big clock,
which she had had in her hand a few
minutes before, was in the breast of
the murdered man. It seemed ridicu-
lous-but still believed her. Perhaps
this lumpish. grotesque thing at our
feet had been pursuing her, and she
had snatched the sword and struck
at him, and then run away.
was about to say something to Low
schiem, anything to break the silence
in that narrow passage, when we heard
SounQ down the cOrr1Q0r and Nine.
Lovschiem's yellow shawl emerged, fol-
lowed by the black skirts of the priest.
Nine. Lovschiem led the priest di-
rectly to the man at our feet. We both
moved back little when the priests
red beard doomed up into the light.
He bent over, as we all had, and stared
at the dead man. But he looked puz-
zled and clumsy and did not seem to
know exactly what Nine Jovschiem
expected of him. He got down, how
ever, on his knees and got out his
crucifix and rosary and began passing
his fingers over the beads.
couldn't see his face, only his bent
head and rather thin and narrow
shoulders in their tightly buttoned SOU
tame, and his feet, which projected
from the black folds Of the skirt OF the
garment he wore and looked very large.
He was younger than he had seemed
on my first glimpse of him; there was
an unwrinkled look about the back Of
his neck, there seemed to be no gray
in his mouse-colored hair, and his
figure was rather lean.
It was strange, thought, that he
was wearing American-made shoes. 1t
was SO strange that I looked closely