Drexel meanwhile had opened the room door to fly.
“Come back, you, Drexel, or I’ll fire,” I cried, covering him. He came back trembling like the cur he was. “Close the window, Helga, and have some help here.”
She was shutting the window when the servants, with Ivan at their head, came in, having heard the pistol shots.
“Have that man held, Ivan,” I said, pointing to Drexel, who indeed was in a state bordering on collapse, “and go instantly in search of a man who has just fled. Quick, as you care for your mistress’s life.”
I bent over Vastic and laid my hand on his heart.
When I looked up Helga was standing by me.
“He is dead,” I said in reply to her glance.
“My God!” The cry forced itself between her pressed lips.
“Have the body taken somewhere for the present,” I ordered one of the servants, “and then see that every door and window in the house is safely bolted. I will speak to you presently,” I added to Helga, who was now trembling. “I must question this man,” and laying a heavy hand on Drexel’s shoulder, I led him into another room.