--the same glitter which had so frightened me once before....

Godfrey drew me back with a firm hand and took my place. As for me, I
retreated to the stair, and sat there feverishly mopping my face and
trying to understand. Who was this man? What was he doing there
against the wall? What was the meaning of this ferocious scene....

Then my heart leaped into my throat, for Godfrey, with a sharp cry of
"_Halte-là!_" sprang to his feet and dashed into the room, Simmonds
at his heels.

I suppose two seconds elapsed before I reached the threshold, and I
stopped there, staring, clutching at the wall to steady myself.

That scene is so photographed upon my brain that I have only to close
my eyes to see it again in every detail.

There was the cabinet with its wrappings torn away; but the figure on
the floor had disappeared, and before an open doorway into another
room stood a man, a giant of a man, his hands above his head, his
face working with fear and rage, while Godfrey, his lips curling into
a mocking smile, pressed a pistol against his breast.

Then, as I stood there staring, it seemed to me that there was a sort
of flicker in the air above the man's head, and he screamed shrilly.

"_La mort!_" he shrieked. "_La mort!_"

For one dreadful instant longer he stood there motionless, his hands
still held aloft, his eyes staring horribly; then, with a strangled