He mounted the steps to my side.
“Oh, my God!” he cried. “What did I tell you! Poor, poor soul!”
He seemed to be in the greatest agitation.
“I asked M. Darzac for eight days!” he went on. “But this thing must be ended in twenty-four hours or I shall no longer have strength to act.”
He entered my room and threw himself into a chair as if exhausted. “I am smothering!” he moaned. “I can’t breathe!” He tore his collar away from his throat. “Water!” he entreated. “Water!”
I started to fetch some, but he stopped me.
“No—I want the water from the heavens! I must have it!” and he waved his hands toward the dark skies from which huge drops were slowly beginning to fall.
For ten minutes he remained stretched out in the chair, thinking. What surprised me was that he asked no question or uttered no conjecture as to what the Lady in Black had been seeking in my room. I would not have known how to answer, if he had done so. At length, he rose.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To take the guard at the postern.”