Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1905-06-03 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

CHAPTER XXVI. (Continued.)  An hour passed in unbroken silence, and then a subdued murmur accosted my ears—a far-away audible something that had no definiteness about it. Then by degrees distinct and recognisable sounds asserted themselves. The staccato notes of a woman's laugh, loud haw-haws from masculine throats, a fusillade of popping corks, and a chorus of "bravos " following. This rising wave of sound both cheered and depressed me, and you may interpret that as you will. I arose and applied my- ear to the wall, and I became convinced at once that the sounds did not proceed from an adjoining room. Some small space intervened, and yet the sounds grew in distinctness minute by minute. Nothing was plainer than that I was within a few yards of a scene of wild dissipation, in which shrill feminine laughter was the dominant factor. This continued for nearly an hour longer; then the sounds of laughter suddenly died away. A babel of angry voices supervened, with strident feminine notes piercing the din, followed by a crash of broken glass and overturned furniture; and at last, above all the uptioar, there rang out clear and loud two pistol shots, followed by a dead silence. At that instant a flare of lightning, blue and blinding, filled my room. It suited the occasion. I felt sure that the red blood of a murdered man was flowing not many yards away. I bethought me of Mary's tale of electric beams lying athwart the garden, coming whence she knew not. It was but a few steps to the window in the lnmber-room above, and thither I quickly sped, only to find the garden as black as Erebus. Not a stray gleam, even, was visible; and the white villa of Lord Romer was cowled and hidden from sight, until the heavens suddenly opened in flame and revealed it for an instant, with the panes of the long greenhouse glistening like fish scales. Then ebony blackness again.  Fifteen minutes, perhaps, had elapsed as I stood at the window, when my alert ears caught the sound of footsteps upon the landing below, as well as whispered voices.  "Let us be sure," said one. "He may be up here. You say there is a window overlooking the garden." "Nonsense," said another, and I recognised the voice at once as Lord Romer's. "You saw that his bed had not been disturbed. He has not returned yet." "But one must be sure," was the reply. "Hemp is an unpleasant thing about a man's throat. You think this chap is a sweet innocent. I don't. He knows more than you suspect. I twigged it by the way he tackled me It the Criterion this afternoon. I have been bearing the heat and burden of the day lately. You haven't; and I mean to have my way in this. If the beggar is not upstairs, so much the luckier for him, for I have a spare bullet in my revolver, and  "'Sh! don't be a fool,;" came in another voice quite unfamiliar to Me. "Go up if you like, and we'll follow."  Cold sweat broke out all over me. How could I possibly escape? There was Sawkin's room, to be sure, but that of a surety would be searched. If I could but find my way to my former hidingplace!  "Ali, thank God," I murmured; as the lightning flared once more into the room, making it as light as day. I seized the occasion, and within a few seconds, thanks to my slippered feet, I felt that I was safe, though my heart hammered so loudly upon my ribs that I was afraid the sound might be audible to the oncomers.  The stairs creaked noisily beneath their feet, though they trod gingerly. The door was opened, a match was struck. _  "Well," said Lord Romer, "are you satisfied? I tell you the man is out, and why the devil should he come up here. He knows nothing about the place—nothing about the house at all. Must I keep hammering that fact into your skull?" "But there is a room in there."