Exactly what happened I do not know. But, as he spoke, I heard, proceeding from the room, the sound of the buzzing of wings. Instantly it recalled my experiences of the night before,—as it did so I was conscious of a most unpleasant qualm. Sydney swore a great oath, as if he were beside himself with rage.
‘If you won’t go up, you shall come down.’
I suppose, failing to find a cord, he seized the blind from below, and dragged it down,—it came, roller and all, clattering to the floor. The room was all in light. I hurried in. Sydney was standing by the window, with a look of perplexity upon his face which, under any other circumstances, would have been comical. He was holding papa’s revolver in his hand, and was glaring round and round the room, as if wholly at a loss to understand how it was he did not see what he was looking for.
‘Marjorie!’ he exclaimed. ‘Did you hear anything?’
‘Of course I did. It was that which I heard last night,—which so frightened me.’
‘Oh, was it? Then, by—’ in his excitement he must have been completely oblivious of my presence, for he used the most terrible language, ‘when I find it there’ll be a small discussion. It can’t have got out of the room,—I know the creature’s here; I not only heard it, I felt it brush against my face.—Holt, come inside and shut that door.’
Mr Holt raised his arms, as if he were exerting himself to make a forward movement,—but he remained rooted to the spot on which he stood.
‘I can’t!’ he cried.
‘You can’t!—Why?’
‘It won’t let me.’