Holder sprang to his feet and made his way rapidly around the table,
where he stood confronting the woman in the doorway. There she was,
perceptibly swaying, as though the floor under her were rocked by an
earthquake. Her handsome face was white as chalk, her pupils widened in
terror. It was curious, at such an instant, that he should have taken
in her costume,--yet it was part of the mystery. She wore a new,
close-fitting, patently expensive suit of dark blue cloth and a small
hat, which were literally transforming in their effect, demanding a
palpable initial effort of identification.

He seized her by the arm.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"Oh, my God!" she cried. "He--he's out there--in the carriage."

She leaned heavily against the doorpost, shivering . . . . Holder saw
Sally Grover coming down the stairs.

"Take her," he said, and went out of the front door, which Sam had left
open. Mr. Bentley was behind him.

The driver had descended from the box and was peering into the darkness
of the vehicle when he heard them, and turned. At sight of the tall
clergyman, an expression of relief came into his face.

"I don't like the looks of this, sir," he said. "I thought he was pretty
bad when I went to fetch him--"