“That is much better,” said Kate gratefully, a few moments later. “But is it not strange that the doctor does not come?—Rudolph, did you see Dr. Moore?”
“I did, Miss Strong,” answered the Rexanian, with reckless defiance of the truth. He had begun to feel that one lie more or less would not make much difference with the retribution that threatened to overtake him so soon. “He should have been here long before this.”
The minutes dragged slowly along. To the two women the next quarter of an hour seemed almost interminable. Mrs. Brevoort used part of it to describe to Kate Strong the weird scene that she and Ned had witnessed just before the pistol-shot had punctuated the course of events.
Morose, but alert, Rudolph Smolenski overheard her story, and his sluggish brain began to grasp the fact that it was high time for him to act. Hitherto he had been tenacious of a lingering hope that he had not already forfeited his situation. The blow he had received when he struck the floor had not tended to give him a clear idea of the helplessness of his position. But as it dawned upon him that Ludovics must have been the man who fired the pistol at the manor-house, a cold sweat broke out upon his hands and brow. He had been the last man to talk to Ludovics, and the driver of the carriage that still waited outside the lodge gate had been a witness to their conversation. If Ludovics had murdered the prince, he, Rudolph, would be held as an accessory before the fact.
“Where are you going, Rudolph?” asked Kate suspiciously, as the Rexanian arose and walked unsteadily toward the door leading into the corridor.
“Just outside a moment, Miss Strong,” he faltered. “I will take a look toward the big house and see if they are coming.”
“Do,” returned Kate. “I am growing very impatient,” she added, turning to Mrs. Brevoort.
They sat in silence for a time, their cold hands pressed together.
Suddenly they heard the rattle of a ramshackle vehicle as it passed the front of the house, bound cityward.
“That’s strange,” cried Mrs. Brevoort, springing up. “What does it mean?”