"So I am a prisoner," I said.
"You are," she replied. She clipped the words in an uncompromising way which promised that I was in for a bad quarter of an hour. Where in the world was Genevieve? I wondered. But Miss Belle went on at once, eying me steadily with a hard, stony look.
"I shall get to the point at once. It all depends upon you, whether or not you leave this room alive. It will be for you to choose, and I think you 'll choose the wiser course. I 'm in dead earnest."
She was, whatever her purpose; there was no gainsaying that. I was profoundly curious to learn what that purpose was.
"May I sit down?" I asked, calmly.
She made an impatient gesture with the hand that clutched the chair-back—the hand that held the door-key. But there were two keys in her grasp, I observed. The flowing sleeve of her dressing-gown disclosed a momentary glimpse of white, rounded arm.
"It's useless—useless for you to play for time. I want to know why you have permitted Royal Maillot to be railroaded to jail"—she flung the word at me—"and permitted a snake like that creature, Burke, to go scathless.
"But, no, I don't care for your motives. You know Royal to be innocent. Between the two who were in that house Tuesday night—Royal, open, frank, and manly; Alexander Burke, sly, secretive, and a coward if ever there was one. What sort of intellect have you that it should make such a choice between these two? Bah! You're either base—in league with the criminals—or a fool."
She stopped for sheer lack of breath. She stood staring at me with all the dignity of an outraged queen, and for once in my life I was so astounded that I was at an utter loss for words. I sank into a nearby chair—without her permission—and for the second or so of the pause, my thoughts flew like lightning.
When Miss Fluette was carried from the Page library the previous day her condition promised a long siege of illness; Dr. De Breen had confirmed my own surmise with a declaration to that effect. Why, then, was she not at this moment in bed, with Genevieve caring for her? I had an engagement with Genevieve; she was expecting me at eight o'clock. Miss Belle's appearance indicated that she had prepared for this meeting with the utmost haste—she had probably risen and donned dressing-gown and slippers after I rang the doorbell. What, then, had she done with Genevieve?