"'Do as I tell you. Run for your life,' I repeated.
"'But you?' gasped Lady Wilmersley.
"'I have the pistol. I am not afraid. I will follow you,' I assured her.
"I knew rather than saw that she picked up a jacket and bag which lay near the window. With a soft thud she dropped into the night. That is the last I saw of her. What became of her I do not know." Amy paused a moment.
"As Lord Wilmersley saw his wife disappear, he gave a cry like a wounded animal and rushed after her. I fired. He staggered back a few steps, then turning he ran into the adjoining room. I heard a splash but did not stop to find out what happened. Almost beside myself with terror, I fled from the castle. If you have any more questions to ask, you had better hurry."
She stopped abruptly, trembling from head to foot, and glanced wildly about her till her eyes rested on her husband. For a long, long moment she regarded him in silence. She seemed to be gathering herself together for a supreme effort.
All four men watched her in breathless suspense.
With her eyes still fastened on Cyril she fumbled in the bosom of her dress, then her hand shot out, and before any one could prevent her, she jabbed a hypodermic needle deep into her arm.
"What have you done?" cried Cyril, springing forward and wrenching the needle from her.
A beatific smile spread slowly over her face.