Negligently he threw himself once more into the chair before the mirror and sat looking at the reflected eyes.
“It is she,” he told himself. “There is no one else there. And it’s been she all along. Hyde was right. She was already in the room when he entered, as he suspected.”
Then suddenly he became aware that the eye sockets of Burgomaster Van Camp were empty. Vacantly the portrait stared down from the wall. But only for a moment. Suddenly a long, black cylinder was thrust through one of the apertures—there was a puff of smoke, a loud report, and a pistol bullet whizzed past his head.
CHAPTER XVIII
IN WHICH IS FOUGHT THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND
The smoke of the pistol was drifting toward the ceiling as George wheeled toward the portrait. But the blank spaces were now filled by the painted eyes; there was no trace of anything being amiss. For a space after the crash of the shot died away there was complete silence. Then a hum grew through the mansion; doors began to open and shut, voices were lifted in anxious and frightened inquiry.
But George Prentiss paid little heed. He stood in the center of the room gazing into the heavy face of the old burgomaster, incredulity, fear, astonishment mingled into one expression. Peggy had tried to take his life, was the horrid thought that filled his mind; to save her brother she had attempted to shoot his fancied pursuer in the back.
Up and down outside his door hurried unshod feet; the voice of the stout old merchant could be heard demanding, threatening, raging. But what his words were, George did not gather; indeed, his brain seemed numbed by what had happened; he felt as though it were moving in a sort of haze and could grasp no fact save the one.
Then a knock sounded upon his door; dully he turned and opened it; Mr. Camp stood there, and at his back were a couple of frightened servants bearing lighted candles.
“Master Prentiss,” said the merchant, “we were startled a few moments ago by what sounded much like a musket or pistol shot, in or near this room.”
“Indeed, sir.”