The period of blank unconsciousness appeared to me but a few minutes, but it must have been hours, for when I awoke the morning sun was high and was shining full in my face as I sat there. My limbs were cramped and my head was heavy, but there was no pain with my returning sensibility, as is generally the case after a period of insensibility. I rose with difficulty, and, staggering unevenly to the window, looked out. Upon the terrace two men were idly strolling as was the habit of those who came down early, awaiting the breakfast bell. I glanced at the timepiece and saw that it was about nine o’clock.
Had Beryl’s absence yet been discovered?
I glanced over to my bed, and then recollected that I had not undressed. Truly that night had been an eventful one. La Gioia had actually been in that room. In an instant, recollections of my midnight vigil and my chase crowded upon me. Surely, if that rope-ladder were still suspended from the window of the room occupied by my love, those two men strolling there must have noticed it!
I opened my own window and leaned out to look. No, it had been removed. My loved one’s absence had been discovered.
The breakfast bell rang and aroused me to a sense of responsibility. I knew of the secret visit of La Gioia, and it was my duty to reveal it so that the truth might be ascertained. Therefore, I shaved quickly, changed my clothes, and tossed about my bed so that the maids should not suspect my wakefulness.
There was merry chatter outside in the corridor as the guests descended, but, although I listened, I could hear no mention of Beryl’s disappearance. On completion of my toilet I opened my door and followed them down. Yet scarcely had I got to the head of the stairs when that same now-familiar sensation came upon me, like the touch of an icy hand. I gripped the old oaken banisters and stood cold and dumb. The same phenomena had occurred in my room as in that room of mystery at Gloucester Square. The thing utterly staggered belief.
Nevertheless, almost as swiftly as the hand of Death touched me was it withdrawn, and, walking somewhat unsteadily, I went down and along the corridor to the breakfast room.
The chatter was general before I entered, but there was a sudden silence as I opened the door.
“Why, Doctor Colkirk?” cried a voice, “this isn’t like you to be late. You’re an awful sluggard this morning!”
I glanced quickly across at the speaker and held my breath in amazement. It was Beryl! She was sitting there, in her usual place looking fresh in her pale blue cotton blouse, the merriest and happiest of the party.