"Did you get him?" I stammered.
"We got one fellow," answered Hugh grimly. "Or I should say, Nikka did."
I staggered to my feet with Hugh's arm around me. In the doorway I saw Watkins, a nightshirt flapping around his calves, forcing back a motley group of servants. Nikka had picked up the electric torch which had been flung at me, and was examining by its light the body of a man that lay between the couch and the fireplace.
As Watkins closed the door, Nikka beckoned to him.
"Did they see this?" he asked shortly, pointing to the body.
"No, sir. None of them got inside, and it's quite impossible to see be'ind the couch 'ere, sir."
"Good! Oh, Hugh!" Nikka turned to us. "Hello, Jack! Do you feel yourself again?"
"I'm right as can be," I insisted, which was the truth. "Nothing bothered me, except having the wind squeezed out of me by that gorilla."
"What gorilla?"
"The Italian—Teodoresehi."