I must have a light. I must call Dr. Letheny. I must—— There was the sound of windows being lowered. I found my way to the door. If I could make Maida hear me—but, of course, I couldn’t through the confusion of patients calling out from fright as they found the lights failing to go on, and the constant roll of thunder and crashing of rain. The flashes of lightning were frequent and I caught a fleeting glimpse of Maida crossing the corridor farther down the hall.
It would be of no use to call her; furthermore, she was busy. I disliked leaving Eighteen with no one in the room, but I must have a light. I ran down the length of the corridor—it seemed long and unfamiliar—groped in a drawer of the cupboard in the diet kitchen, found the burnt end of a candle and some matches, and flew back to Room 18. At the door I met Maida. Our faces gleamed eerily in the lightning and then vanished into darkness.
“Isn’t this awful!” she cried. “Where were you! Every window in the wing was open. And the lights have gone out! What—what in the world are you doing?”
She was at my elbow in Room 18. My fingers shook so that I could scarcely light the candle, and when I did succeed it made only a feeble little flicker that did not dispel the shadows.
She followed me to the bed.
“Why, Sarah! Is he——” She reached over to place her hand on his face as I had done. “He is dead!”
Setting the candle on the table, I pushed aside the covers to find his heart. If there were the least flicker of life, something could yet be done. But there was not.
It was as I drew back that I made the astounding discovery.
The box that held the radium was gone! Adhesive and all had been stripped clean!
“Look——” I tried to cry out but a roll of thunder that shook the very foundations drowned my voice. I pointed with a finger that shook and held the futile little flame nearer, while Maida searched frantically among the sheets.