He paused suddenly and his hand met Miss Thorne's warningly. The silence of the night was broken by the violent clatter of footsteps, apparently approaching the embassy. The noise was unmistakable—some one was running.
"The window!" Miss Thorne whispered.
She rose quickly and started to cross the room, to look out; Mr. Grimm sat motionless, listening. An instant later and there came a tremendous crash of glass—the French window in the hallway by the sound—then rapid footsteps, still running, along the hall. Mr. Grimm moved toward the door unruffled, perfectly self-possessed; there was only a narrowing of his eyes at the abruptness and clatter of it all. And then the electric lights in the hall flashed up.
Before Mr. Grimm stood a man, framed by the doorway, staring unseeingly into the darkened room. His face was haggard and white as death; his mouth agape as if from exertion, and the lips bloodless; his eyes were widely distended as if from fright—clothing disarranged, collar unfastened and dangling.
"The ambassador!" Miss Thorne whispered thrillingly.
XIV
A RESCUE AND AN ESCAPE
Miss Thorne's voice startled Mr. Grimm a little, but he had no doubts. It was Monsieur Boisségur. Mr. Grimm was going toward the enframed figure when, without any apparent reason, the ambassador turned and ran along the hall; and at that instant the lights went out again. For one moment Grimm stood still, dazed and blinded by the sudden blackness, and again he started toward the door. Miss Thorne was beside him.
"The lights!" he whispered tensely. "Find the switch!"