But a ghost in black? Impossible! Now I beheld more clearly. A woman, gliding on slippered feet, was coming toward me. The moonbeams shone on the long cloak of fur that enveloped her from head to foot—on the loosened hair and silver-hued face. And it was the face of Flora Hatherton!
For an instant the hot blood rushed to my brain; I felt a sharp pang at my heart. Then I stepped suddenly out—out into the flood of moonlight—and confronted her. She gave a little scream, and choked it as quickly on her lips.
“Denzil!” she gasped.
“Flora!” I said sternly. “What does this mean?”
“Hush!” she whispered. “We shall be heard! You—you said you would trust me. Is this keeping your word?”
“Where have you been?” I demanded hoarsely.
“I will tell you—again. Oh, be merciful, be patient!”
I saw that Captain Rudstone’s light had vanished. A madness sprang up in my breast.
“Where have you been?” I repeated. “Speak, for God’s sake! Only two rooms are occupied on this passage—mine and—and his.”
I would have given my life to recall the hot words when I saw the horror, the pitiful look of agony that shone from Flora’s eyes.