Presently he let her go, and, staggering to the door, kicked it shut. His fingers were closing on the key handle when:
“If you turn that key I’ll kill you.”
He looked up in ludicrous surprise, and, at the sight of the pistol in the girl’s hand, his big hands waved before his face in a gesture of fear.
“Put it down, you fool!” he squealed. “Put it down! Don’t you know what you’re doing? The damned thing may go off by accident.”
“It will not go off by accident,” she said. “Open that door.”
He hesitated for a moment, and then her thumb tightened on the safety-catch, and he must have seen the movement.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” he screamed, and flung the door wide open. “Wait, you fool! Don’t go out. Bhag is there. Bhag will get you. Stay with me. I’ll——”
But she was flying down the corridor. She slipped on a loose rug in the hall but recovered herself. Her trembling hands were working at the bolts and chains; the door swung open, and in another instant she was in the open, free.
Sir Gregory followed her. The shock of her escape had sobered him, and all the tragic consequences which might follow came crowding in upon him, until his very soul writhed in fear. Dashing back to his study, he opened his safe, took out a bundle of notes. These he thrust into the pocket of a fur-lined overcoat that was hanging in a cupboard and put it on. He changed his slippers for thick shoes, and then bethought him of Bhag. He opened the den, but Bhag was not there, and he raised his shaking fingers to his lips. If Bhag caught her!
Some glimmering of a lost manhood stirred dully in his mind. He must first be sure of Bhag. He went out into the darkness in search of his strange and horrible servant. Putting both hands to his mouth, he emitted a long and painful howl, the call that Bhag had never yet disobeyed, and then waited. There was no answer. Again he sent forth the melancholy sound, but, if Bhag heard him, for the first time in his life he did not obey.