CHAPTER XXV
NO. 17, THE PLACE OF ST. JOHN
WE stood silent for perhaps a minute and I strained my ears for the sound of voices in the rooms near. Not so much as a whisper was to be heard.
Presently the stairs creaked above, and I saw a woman, tear-stained and troubled-looking, peering cautiously down at us.
“What are you doing there? Come down,” said Burski, quickly.
I guessed that she was Volna’s old nurse, and that she had been listening above stairs. She came down, her eyes full of alarm.
“In which room are they?” I asked, sharply.
“The back——” she began, pointing to a door, when Burski stopped her.
“Silence,” he interposed.
But I had the information I needed and sprang past him and ran up the stairs. “You must not go up, Mr. Anstruther,” he cried.
“Why not? I am no prisoner,” I answered; and before he could prevent me, I had reached the door and entered the room, Burski at my heels, to find Volna in a condition of mingled defiance and distress, and Bremenhof pacing the floor angrily.