“I saw a light in the Corinthian’s Room and—as I was about to say when Mr. Stickney cut in—in the library which leads out of the Corinthian’s Room. Five minutes later, say about one o’clock in the morning, the rain drove me indoors. I bolted the door and put on the alarm again. As I came back into the hall, someone switched on the lights, and I found young Dangerfield there. I said something about having been out looking at the storm and he nodded. Then I went upstairs and back to my room. The best part of the storm was over, so I went to bed, perhaps round about quarter past one. Like the other people I woke up as usual in the morning. That’s all I can remember at present.”
The American’s narrative, whether intentionally or not, had brought a relaxation of the tension in the room. By his purely objective treatment of the matter he had produced an unconscious change in outlook among his audience. Westenhanger was relieved to see that even Eileen’s face had taken on a less strained expression. She was anything but at her ease, yet there was something in her face which suggested that she had passed the worst.
Douglas Fairmile was the next to volunteer an account of his doings during the night.
“I’m no great hand at exact times and seasons,” he began. “You’ll just need to take what you get. And I’m no amateur in storms, either. If lightning leaves me alone I’ll never trouble it. But that storm forced itself on my notice—and not in a quiet insinuating way, either. To be frank with you, it kept me awake. After a while I got fed up listening to it, so I thought I might as well read, since I couldn’t sleep. So I padded off downstairs to get a book from the library. Mr. Wraxall says it was just about one o’clock, and he knows more about it than I do. The only thing that strikes me as important in the affair is that when I switched on the lights in the Corinthian’s Room, I happened to notice that the Talisman was still in its place. So that means it disappeared after one o’clock in the morning.”
He glanced at Eileen as he spoke. Westenhanger felt a wave of relief at this evidence, since it seemed to clear the girl completely; but on looking at her, he was surprised to see that she showed no sign of elation. Her expression hardly indicated that she had appreciated the force of Douglas’s statement.
“I picked up a book,” continued Douglas, “and just as I was leaving the room, Eric came down his stair. We exchanged a few bright remarks about the storm—nothing worth recording—and I left him writing something at the table in the library. I must have got through the hall—I didn’t bother to switch on the lights—before Mr. Wraxall came inside again. And so to bed. And may I repeat, Freddie, lest you failed to catch my whisper last time, that I did not steal the Talisman as I was passing. Make a note of that. It seems important, as Mr. Wraxall says.”
“I’m afraid my story doesn’t help much,” said Nina Lindale, shyly, “and it makes me out to be a terrible coward. But I’ve always been nervous of thunder since I was a kiddie. I didn’t mind the beginning of this one—at least I tried not to mind it. But then there came a terrific flash and a perfectly awful peal of thunder, and my nerves went to pieces altogether.”
“That must have been the time the tree was struck, I expect,” said the American. “Say twenty minutes to one?”
“Oh, don’t ask me what time it was. I had other things to think about. After that, I felt I simply couldn’t be alone for another minute. I got up and went next door into Eileen’s room. I wanted company at any price, even if I had to knock up half the house to get it. But Eileen wasn’t there. Her bed hadn’t been slept in. So I thought perhaps she was in the same state and had gone to someone else’s room. I rushed along to Cynthia’s bedroom and burst in on her. And after that I didn’t dare to go back to my own room again, so I just stayed with her all night.”
“That accounts for my light being switched on, you see, Mr. Wraxall,” said Cynthia to the American. “I’ve really no idea of what time it was that Nina came along to me; but it was just after that awful thunder-clap; and I expect that was the one you made a note of. Nina and I fell asleep after a while, once the storm had gone down. I don’t know what time that was, either. Do you generally fall asleep with your eyes on your watch, Mr. Stickney? It seems very hard to fix any definite times for things which happen at night.”