“No, sir. I couldn’t bear for any one else but me to hear it all,” sobbed the trembling woman. “I went back and shut the door.”
“Then no one has heard—no one knows—but you?”
“No, sir.”
“My cousin?”
“He has gone out, sir.”
“Hah! Then it is a secret still,” muttered North.
The old housekeeper struggled to her feet, for his words and manner horrified her. She alone had heard what had taken place, and it seemed to her that within a few steps her master’s victim must be lying prone, and that even her life was not safe now.
Her first instinct was to make for the door, but he had hold of her wrist, and she sank once more at his feet, with a low sobbing cry.
“I’m an old woman, now,” she cried, “and a year or two more or less don’t matter much.”
The same harsh, mocking laugh broke out again, chilling her to the marrow, and then North uttered a hoarse, harsh expiration of the breath, and stamped his foot angrily.