CHAPTER XXIII RELATES A QUEER ADVENTURE
Up the great stairway, slowly, very carefully, came four men carrying a stretcher. The form extended upon it was completely covered by a white sheet, all but the feeta man's feet. Behind and on each side were men, apparently gentlemen, all strangers to me. So deeply occupied were their thoughts, seemingly, that they appeared not to notice Albeury, Dulcie and myself as we stepped aside to let them pass. For the moment my attention was distracted. What had happened? Had there been an accident? If so, who was the victim, and who were these men with him?
"Can you show me the way to room eight eight?" one of the leading bearers asked as he came up to me. He stopped, waiting for me to answer, and as he did so the men beside the stretcher gathered about me, so that for the instant I lost sight of Dulcie, who had instinctively stepped back a pace or two.
I indicated the whereabouts of the room.
"And can you tell me which is Mr. Berrington's room?" he then asked.
"Yes. But I am Mr. Berrington. What is it you want?"
"You are? Are you Mr. Michael Berrington?"
"Yes."
"Oh, then you had better come with us now."
"Whom are you carrying? What has happened?"