"In the next room. He has been asleep all the afternoon, but is awake now."
With noiseless steps Colonel Baker made his way into the next room, and drew up a chair by Goddard's bedside. Nothing had been disturbed in the room; the furniture had been left as it was before Lloyd's death. A feeble attempt had been made to remove the blood stains in front of the mantel; but the servant had only succeeded in spreading the stains over the rag carpet.
Goddard moved restlessly, and turned over in bed, so that he faced Baker; his quick ear had caught the slight sound the newcomer made in seating himself.
"Nurse, is it you?" His voice was scarcely more than a whisper.
"No, Major Goddard; it is I, Colonel Baker."
"Baker?" Goddard spoke half to himself. "Baker? Not Colonel Baker, of the Secret Service?" attempting to rise in bed.
"The same, sir, but that need not excite you. Here, let me put this pillow at your back; you might then be more comfortable." Baker leaned over, and lifted Goddard up in his strong arms as Symonds slipped the pillow in place.
"Thanks. Who is the other person in the room?" inquired Goddard weakly.
"Symonds."
"Symonds!" Goddard's eyelids fluttered over his sightless eyes. Baker did not care to break the pause that followed. Suddenly Goddard roused himself. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"