For that look she gave him Timothy would have stayed out the three hundred and sixty-five nights in the year.
“I lay for a very long time, thinking that the sound would wake my uncle, but I heard nothing.”
“Is your room near Sir John’s?” asked the policeman.
“No, mine is on this side of the building; Sir John and Lady Maxell sleep on the other side. I don’t know what it was, but something alarmed me and filled me with terror—something that made my flesh go rough and cold—oh, it was horrible!” she shuddered.
“I couldn’t endure it any longer, so I got out of bed and went out into the corridor to wake uncle. Just then I heard a sound outside my window, but I was just too terrified to look out. Then I heard a motor-car and footsteps on the path outside. I went to Sir John’s door and knocked, but got no answer. Then I tried Lady Maxell’s door, but there was no answer there either. So I went to Johnson’s room and woke him;” she looked at Timothy, “I—I—thought that you might be there, so I came back to the open window and looked.”
“Show me Sir John’s room,” said the policeman to the servant, and the three men passed up the stairs, followed by the girl.
The door which the man indicated was locked, and even when the policeman hammered on the panel there was no response.
“I think the key of my door will unlock almost any of the room doors,” said the girl suddenly. “Sir John told me once that all the room locks were made on the same plan.”
She went away and came back with a key. The policeman fitted it in the lock and opened the door, feeling for and finding the electric switch as he entered. The room was empty, and apparently the bed had not been occupied.
“Where does that door lead?” he asked.