"Didn't you see him at all? Can you give no description?"
"How could I see, with my eyes tied up?"
"Did he say anything?"
"No, but he laughed horribly under his breath, in a kind of devilish enjoyment. It made my blood run cold. I thought he was going to kill me next. Oh, Lord!"
"How did he get out? By the window or the door?"
"I don't know. It was quiet and I waited for what was going to happen next and waited, and waited, and it got to be more and more horrible until I thought I should die before some one came."
"He came in by the window," said a man in the crowd, who had been examining the room. "See, here are the marks of mud on the window sill. He must have pulled himself up by the vine trellis. See how it is torn loose here. Was the window open when you went to bed, Mr. Hadley?"
"Yes. Oh, Lord, that such things should be allowed to happen!"
"Who was it gave the alarm? You, Miss Hadley? How did you discover what had happened to your father?"
The young woman whom Burton had seen in the hall had come into the room. She was holding fast to the bedpost and staring at her father with a look of fascinated horror.