IN THE DEATH CHAMBER
I sat up suddenly in bed and turned on the light. It was barely two o'clock by my watch, but I felt sure that I had not been mistaken. Some one had knocked at my door.
In the act of springing out of bed the sound was repeated. This time there was certainly no mistake about it, and I heard my name called—
"Mr. Courage! Mr. Courage!"
I opened the door. The landing was dimly lit, and I could see little else except the figure of the woman who stood there. With one hand she was leaning against the wall, her face was as white as a sheet; she wore a hastily thrown on dressing-gown of dingy red. Her whole appearance was that of a person convulsed with fright.
"Who are you?" I asked. "What do you want?"
Her lips parted. She seemed to have the intention of speaking, but no words came. Her teeth began to chatter.
"Come," I said brusquely, "you must—why you are the nurse whom Dr. Rust sent, aren't you?" I asked, suddenly recognizing her. "What is the matter with you? Are you ill?"
All the time, although she was silent, her eyes, distended and terror-stricken, were fixed upon me. She nodded feebly.
"Something—is wrong!" she faltered at last. "Come!"