Betty had heard the impostor’s true name uttered tonight, but she had forgotten it.
Then came weird recollections of the face of Clink. It was the sight of that hideous countenance that had made her utter the cry which had betrayed her.
Her reflections were gruesome and incredible. They added to the girl’s dismay. Her mind was reverting to the past, covering days and months in a span of a few seconds.
Suddenly her thoughts centered on the night when she had entered the study and had surprised the man in black. She fancied that she could see his eyes glowing through the darkness.
Until now, Betty had always thought of that sable figure as a terrible being; now she found a strange comfort in the recollection. Somehow, she felt that his presence was not an evil one.
She wondered who he was, and why he had come to this house. She remembered him as a shadowy form — almost a part of the night itself — a specter that came and went in darkness.
Of all living beings, only he, if any one, could penetrate to this forgotten place. Perhaps that was why the memory of him brought comfort to her aching mind.
Betty breathed slowly and laboriously. She knew that the end was near. Not many minutes lay between her and death. She would die here, in silence. Any sound would be welcome, now.
Even as she thought, Betty fancied that she heard a slight noise. It was like the muffled pounding, but much fainter. She listened.
She was sure of it, now!