“What’s happened?” he demanded. “Craig isn’t—?”
“No—no—not Mr. Porter”—in spite of every effort to remain calm Vera was on the point of fainting. Totally unconscious of her action she laid her hand in Wyndham’s, and his firm clasp brought a touch of comfort. “It’s B—Mr. Brainard. Come!” And turning, she sped down the hall, her rubber-heeled slippers making no more sound on the thick carpet than Wyndham’s bare feet. She paused before a partly opened door and, resting against the wall, her strength deserting her, she signed to her companion to enter the bedroom.
Without wasting words Wyndham dashed by the nurse and reached the foot of the bed; but there he stopped, and a horrified exclamation broke from him. Bruce Brainard lay on the once spotless white linen in a pool of blood which had flowed from a frightful gash across his throat.
Wyndham passed a shaking hand before his eyes and turned blindly toward the door and collided with Vera.
“Don’t come in,” he muttered hoarsely. “It’s no spectacle for a woman.” And as she drew back into the hall again he burst out almost violently: “God! Brainard can’t be dead, really dead?” He glared at her. “Why didn’t you go for Noyes instead of me? He’d know what to do.”
Vera shook her head. “Mr. Brainard was lifeless when I found him”—her voice gained steadiness as her years of training in city hospitals and still grimmer experiences in the American Hospital Corps abroad came to her aid, and she grew the more composed of the two. “I went first to summon Dr. Noyes—but his room was empty.”
“Empty!” echoed Wyndham dazedly. “At this hour?” and his glance roved about the hall, taking in the still burning acetylene gas jet at the far end of the hall, its artificial rays hardly showing in the increasing daylight. How could the household remain asleep with that ghastly tragedy so close at hand? He shuddered and turned half appealingly to Vera. “What’s to be done?”
“The coroner—”
“To be sure, the coroner”—Wyndham snatched at the suggestion. “Do you know his name?”
“No,” Vera shook her head, “but I can ask ‘Central.’ I presume the coroner lives in Alexandria.”