King of the Castle

by George Manville Fenn

But she passed on down the last flight of steps, across the hall, and without hesitation laid her hand upon the handle of the study door.

“Locked!” she said to herself, the thought occurring directly that the reason was hers, for she recalled fastening the door.

There was a slight grating sound and a sharp crack as she turned the key; but they had no effect upon the woman who, now that she had determined upon her course, seemed as if she would stop at nothing.

The darkness in the study was profound; not even a gleam from the stars passing through the window, which was shuttered, and the curtains drawn. But, as if light were not needed in her mission, the woman went on across the room, avoiding the various articles of furniture in a way that was marvellous, and hardly making a sound till she turned the key of the oak cabinet, which creaked sharply as the door was thrown open.

Then came the clink of bottle against bottle, and the squeaking sound of a cork, followed by the gurgling of a liquid being poured out. The noise of the cork, the tap of the bottom of the bottle on being replaced, and then the closing and locking of the door followed.

Sarah Woodham was about to cross the room back to the door, satisfied with the successful issue of her mission, which would have been thwarted had there been no key in the lock, when the sound of the handle of the door being moved made her start towards the window. Her first idea was to throw one of the curtains round her, but there was no time, and she stood motionless in the dark, listening, under the impression that Claude had heard her come down, and had followed.

A low cough undeceived her, and a chill of horror ran through her frame as she realised the fact that it was her master.

He must have been awake and watchful, and she stood there trying to stop the beating of her heart, as she felt that she had been discovered.

But Gartram slowly crossed the room, and in imagination she saw his hands outstretched as he felt his way to avoid coming in contact with the table. The next moment her spirits began to rise, for she understood why he had come down. There was no doubt about it, for she heard his hands touch the cabinet, the lock snap, and then there was a sharp, clicking sound, and she knew that he had knocked over a bottle on the shelf.

“Confoundedly dark!” he muttered; and Sarah Woodham held her breath as she heard him move, and another sound.