There was a dreadful silence. Then slowly Hervey backed away; his glaring eyes were fixed upon the stern countenance of the ex-Customs officer. Slowly he backed, backed from the apparition; and the onlookers noted the pallid cheeks and blazing eyes, and they wondered helplessly. Nor did Hervey pause until he reached the wall furthest from the window. Then he stood, and his lips silently moved.
Suddenly there was a cry, and it rang with vengeful triumph. It came from the man at the window––Robb Chillingwood.
“By God! it’s Zachary Smith!”
The next instant and he was in the room.
The onlookers gazed blankly from one to the other of the two men. What did it mean? Who was Zachary Smith? And why did Robb so call Hervey? Then their eyes settled on the man against the wall. The cheeks were no longer pallid; they were flushed with a hectic colouring, and those strange eyes were filled with an awful, murderous light. The lips continued to move, but he did not speak; only his right hand slipped round behind him.
Then Robb’s voice sounded through the room again.
“So, Mr. Zachary Smith, we meet again. And, by the Lord Harry, you shall swing for what you did in the mountains! Highway robbery of the Government bullion under the charge of Leslie Grey, and the murder of our Indian guide, Rainy-Moon.” Then he turned––“Hold that door!” he shouted; and Iredale sprang to obey.
“But–––” Prudence rushed forward, but Sarah stopped her and drew her back.