“Tell them to let go of me. I won’t try to run away!”
Bernard nodded to the sergeant.
“Release his arms, will you? I’ll be responsible for him.”
Sergeant Forbes set free the arm he held. The policeman followed the example of his superior. Landis moved forward uncertainly, puzzled, stirred by some mysterious, subconscious excitement the source of which he could not trace. A quick, warning glance from Bernard brought him to a halt.
For an instant Graham remained where he was, swaying a little, one hand pressed to his wounded arm. Then he moved forward and set the arrow carefully in the groove of the cross-bow. He laid hands on the desk and with a sudden effort drew it back into the room a foot or so. Stooping down, he sighted along the arrow from nock to point and thence out the window.
He rose to his feet again and addressed Bernard.
“Now,” he said quietly, “the arrow points straight through the library window at the reception-room door. But there is no allowance for the drop in its flight!”
Bernard did not smile.
“I understand,” he said.