"No. It was dark. Masked, you say. That's bad. It will be hard to swear—Still, I saw his figure. Short, heavy fellow. Wore a cap."
She continued to look anxiously up the stairs.
"Wait here," she said shortly. "I must go up to her. Go to the kitchen if you like, and wash the blood off. I'll be back in a jiffy."
He waited till she was out of sight, and then limped into the living-room,—but with a swiftness incredible in one with a twisted knee. Going direct to the fireplace, he took something out of his coat pocket and, after a glance at door and window, quickly consigned it to the flames. A small black object it was, that crumpled softly in his palm and was consumed in a flash by the flames. A moment later he entered the kitchen, bringing consternation to the two excited domestics, both of whom sent up cries of alarm at the sight of his bloody face.
Meanwhile Mrs. Strong had surprised Alix in her bathroom, frantically washing her hands. She looked up and saw the housekeeper standing in the door behind her. The bowl was half full of reddish water. The expression of disgust in her eyes remained for a moment and then gave way to confusion. Neither spoke for some time.
"What are you doing?" asked Mrs. Strong.
"Oh, Aunt Nancy!" came in a choked voice from the girl's lips.
"Is that blood?"
"Yes," replied Alix, looking away.
"I—I understand. Oh, Alix,—Alix!"