silent as that shadow had been, through the intervening space of
darkness to the open window of Monck's room.

She reached it, was blinded for a moment by the light that poured
through it, then, recovering, peered in.

A man, dressed in pyjamas, stood facing her, so close to her that he
seemed to be in the act of stepping forth. She recognized him in a
second. It was Monck,--but Monck as she never before had seen him, Monck
with eyes alight with fever and lips drawn back like the lips of a
snarling animal. In his right hand he gripped a revolver.

He saw her as suddenly as she saw him, and a rapid change crossed his
face. He reached out and caught her by the shoulder.

"Come in! Come in!" he said, his words rushing over each other in a
confused jumble utterly unlike his usual incisive speech. "You're safe
in here. I'll shoot the brute if he dares to come near you again."

She saw that he was not himself. The awful fire in his eyes alone would
have told her that. But words and action so bewildered her that she
yielded to the compelling grip. In a moment she was in the room, and he
was closing and shuttering the window with fevered haste.

She stood and watched him, a cold sensation beginning to creep about her
heart. When he turned round to her, she saw that he was smiling, a
fierce, triumphant smile.

He threw down the revolver, and as he did so, she found her voice.
"Captain Monck, what does that man want? What--what is he doing?"