Superintendent Battle started to run. Loraine followed. Back round the corner of the terrace and along to the library window. The window was open.
Battle stooped and switched on an electric torch. Loraine was close beside him, peering over his shoulder. She gave a little sobbing gasp.
On the threshold of the window lay Jimmy Thesiger in what looked like a pool of blood. His right arm lay dangling in a curious position.
Loraine gave a sharp cry.
"He's dead," she wailed. "Oh, Jimmy—Jimmy—he's dead!"
"Now, now," said Superintendent Battle soothingly, "don't you take on so. The young gentleman isn't dead, I'll be bound. See if you can find the lights and turn them on."
Loraine obeyed. She stumbled across the room, found the switch by the door and pressed it down. The room was flooded with light. Superintendent Battle uttered a sigh of relief.
"It's all right—he's only shot in the right arm. He's fainted through loss of blood. Come and give me a hand with him."
There was a pounding on the library door. Voices were heard, asking, expostulating, demanding.
Loraine looked doubtfully at it.