"Let me hear, Chalmers, exactly what Miss Rowe said to you when you let her in. What did you think of her—how did she strike you?"
"You saw for yourself what she looked like, sir," replied the old man quietly, yet with an undercurrent of excitement that was not lost on Roger. "I almost took her for a ghost. She fell into the hall when I opened the door, hardly able to stand, she was, sir. I put out my hand to steady her. 'Lord, miss,' I said, 'where have you come from?' I said. She gave me a sort of wild look, sir, then she says, half-choking like, 'Chalmers, where's Mr. Roger? Has the doctor bandaged his hand yet?'"
"Did she ask you that straight off?" demanded Roger, frowning in deep thought.
"Yes, sir, she did. I believed as you did that she was quite off her head. I told her you were in this room with Miss Clifford, and that I thought the doctor was with you, though I wasn't sure. She went as white as a sheet, sir; I was afraid she was going to drop down, but she didn't. She took another sort of spurt, as you may say, and was up those steps so fast she left me behind. I heard her say, 'He's trying to kill him; he's going to give him lock-jaw, and everybody'll believe it's an accident.'"
"Lock-jaw!"
Complete bewilderment was in Roger's face as he repeated the word in a whisper.
"Yes, sir, I was as astonished as you. It seemed as though she must be raving, but then when she said…"
He was interrupted by a sudden peal at the doorbell, loud and long, supplemented by violent blows of the brass knocker. Both men jumped at the sound, then exchanged glances of puzzled apprehension. Who at this particular moment was in such a hurry to enter?
"Beg pardon, sir, I'd better see who that is, I expect."
"Yes, yes, Chalmers, you can finish telling me afterwards."