In a low voice she told me.
I was astonished; dumfounded.
“Shameful!” I cried. “What motive, what reason can they have for denouncing him?”
“He is under suspicion—that is enough.”
“Great heaven!” I exclaimed. “Have we reached such a pass as that?”
“Don’t,” she uttered, hoarsely; “don’t reason; don’t talk; act.”
“I will,” I cried, and rushed from the room.
She fell back in a chair, almost fainting. I saw her lying quiet, inert and helpless as I rushed by her door on my way to the street, but I did not stop to aid her. I knew she would not suffer it.
The police are practical, and my tale was an odd one. I found it hard, therefore, to impress them with its importance, especially as in trying to save Miss Calhoun I was necessarily more or less incoherent. I did succeed, however, in awakening interest at last, and, a man being assigned me, I led the way to Madame’s door. But here a surprise awaited me. The doorplate, which had so attracted my attention, was gone, and in a few minutes we found that she had departed also, leaving no trace behind her.
This looked ominous, and with little delay we hastened to the office of Dr. Merriam. Knocking at the usual door brought no response, but when we tried the further one, by which his patients usually passed out, we found ourselves confronted by the gentleman we sought.