Seizing the handle, he turned it, but the lock held fast. He examined it swiftly, and to his joy saw that it opened outwards. He drew back a yard, and then sent the whole of his great weight crashing against the panels. And with good fortune the door of the room, although stoutly built, was partially rotten. It burst wide open before his weight and sent him sprawling on to his face in the passage.
As he lay there half-stunned his pulses throbbed again as the noise which came from the main entrance told him that Lowther and Mendip were making good use of the gate.
He dragged himself up to his knees, still clutching his revolver, and at the same moment the outer door gave up its resistance, and Lowther and Mendip came headlong into the hall-way.
He heard them give a warning shout as he struggled to his feet, steadying himself by the pillars of the banisters.
Looking up the stairs, he saw the brutal face of Crow on the landing, his strong, yellow teeth bared in a vicious snarl.
Westerham heard the sound of a shot, and at the same time felt the hands of Mme. Estelle give him a push.
Her intention was unselfish, almost heroic; she saved Westerham's life, but lost her own.
She pitched forward with a little gasping sigh and lay still, huddled on the stairs. Westerham heard a second shot rap out from behind his back, and saw Crow stagger on the landing. The man reeled for a couple of paces and then fell heavily.
Westerham had by this time fully got back his senses and his breath; and now he heard coming from somewhere high above him scream after scream of dreadful terror.
He plunged up the staircase, and stepping across the body of Crow as it lay on the landing, raced up the second flight of stairs. For a moment he paused, in order to make doubly sure whence the dreadful screaming came.