"If you please!"
Moreau and Frobisher went out; Ann Upcott hesitated and cast a look of appeal towards Hanaud. Her perplexities were to be set at rest. She did not doubt that. This man had saved her from death when it seemed that nothing could save her. Her trust in him was absolute. But her perplexities were unimportant. Some stroke was to be delivered upon Betty Harlowe from which there could be no recovery. Ann Upcott was not a good hater of Betty's stamp. She shrank from the thought that it was to be her hand which would deliver that stroke.
"Courage, Mademoiselle!"
Hanaud exhorted her with a friendly smile and Ann joined the others in the dark hall. Hanaud closed the door upon them and returned to the clock. It was twenty-eight minutes past one.
"I have two minutes," he said to himself. "That will just do if I am quick."
Outside the three witnesses waited in the darkness. One of the three shivered suddenly so that her teeth rattled in her mouth.
"Ann," Jim Frobisher whispered and he put his hand within her arm. Ann Upcott had come to the end of her strength. She clung to his hand spasmodically.
"Jim!" she answered under her breath. "Oh, but you were cruel to me!"
Hanaud's voice called to them from within the room.
"Come!"