"Go! Go!" cried Jack.
A shot rang out in the house, seemingly right behind Monahan.
"Too late!" cried Jack.
The sound of the shot galvanized the heavy-witted one into action. Turning, he ran from the door, leaving it open. Jack followed him. The dining-room as he already knew adjoined the hall. As Monahan opened the door there was flashed on Jack's brain the picture of a man standing with a gun in his hand, and another lying face down on the floor.
"Seize him!" he cried instinctively.
But at the sound of their coming, the erect man turned, and Jack saw that it was Delamare with face pale but composed.
"Oh, you're all right! Thank God!" cried Jack. The suddenness of the reaction almost unmanned him. He had to support himself against the door frame.
"You, Robinson?" said Delamare in a low steady voice. "Were you warned of this?"
"Just ten minutes ago. I came as quickly as I could."
"Do you know him?" asked Delamare pointing to the figure on the floor.