Goddard was so long in answering that Baker glanced anxiously at the silent figure on the bed. Goddard's face matched the whiteness of the pillow case. He must have felt the scrutiny of Baker's searching eyes, for he moved slightly. Again came the same whisper: "I—I—cannot remember."
"Now, see here." Baker's voice rose.
Goddard held up a shaking hand. "Wait, Colonel," he stammered. "You forget I am ill—faint—perhaps later—" He paused for breath. "Instead of coming to me, why don't you ask Captain Lloyd?"
"For the very good reason that Lloyd is dead," returned Baker solemnly.
"Dead!" Goddard half rose; then sank back on his pillows, panting from his exertions.
"Yes, dead," went on Baker, watching him closely. "Brutally murdered last evening." He paused.
"Where?" Goddard's white lips formed the question; the whispered word could hardly be heard.
"Here in this room while lying on his bed. Now, Major Goddard, I insist upon knowing..." He spoke to deaf ears; Goddard had fainted away.
A firm hand descended on Baker's shoulder, and swung him about face.
"What in hell do you mean by browbeating my nurse and forcing yourself in here!" exclaimed Doctor Ward hotly. "Good God! What have you done to Goddard!" He had caught sight of the latter's ghastly face. "Nurse, look to your patient! Now, sir, out with you." He pushed Baker in the direction of the door. "And you go, too, Symonds," as the man rose and stood uncertain whether or not to assist Colonel Baker in his efforts to remain in the room.