"I say, Beatrice, steady!" the latter began good-naturedly.

There followed the most wonderful silence in the world, a silence which
was filled with throbbing, indescribable emotions, a silence which meant
something different for every one of them. Beatrice, gripping her captive
by the wrist, was looking around, striving to understand. Elizabeth was
filled with blank wonder. Mr. Dane was puzzled. But Philip, who a moment
before had seemed perfectly composed, was the one who seemed torn by
indescribable, by horrible emotions. He was livid almost to the lips. His
hands were stretched out as though to keep from him some awful and
ghastly vision. His eyes, filled with the anguished light of supreme
terror, were fastened upon the newcomer. His lips shook as he tried to
speak.

"Take him away!" he shrieked. "Oh, my God!"

Beatrice, more coherent than any of them, scoffed at him.

"Don't be a fool!" she cried. "Take him away, indeed! He's the most
wonderful thing that ever happened. He's the one man in life you want to
see! So you've come for him, eh?" she went on, turning almost like a
wild-cat on Dane. "You beast! You chose to-night, did you? Now get on
with it, then, and I'll give you the surprise of your life. What are you
here for?"

"I am here to arrest that man, Philip Romilly, for the murder of his
cousin, Douglas Romilly, Miss Wenderley," Dane announced gravely. "I am
sorry."