“I trust you are none the worse,” I said. “I deeply regret that you should have suffered such an outrage—”
“And I am sorry to have put you to so much trouble on my account,” she interrupted. “This is twice you have come to my help at a time of need.”
“Then I am twice honored,” I replied. “But, tell me, was the scoundrel indeed Mr. Mackenzie?”
“I am sure of it, Mr. Carew. I woke suddenly, and saw him standing in the moonlight at the foot of my bed. When I screamed the second time he vanished through the window. It was the shock that unnerved me. I beg you to believe that I am not ordinarily a coward.”
“The adventure would have terrified the bravest of women,” I answered. Bending to her ear, I added, in a whisper: “As for Mr. Mackenzie, I take it he was seeking the dispatches?”
“Yes, he doubtless thought I still had them,” Miss Hatherton replied. “I am afraid he will pay dearly for his folly if Captain Rudstone overtakes him.”
Even as she spoke a startling thing happened. In the silence of the room we all heard the faint report of a pistol. The sound came from some distance away, and in the direction of the upper town.
“That was the captain’s shot,” I declared.
“Or Mr. Mackenzie’s,” the girl suggested, in a tone of alarm.
“The saints save us!” cried Monsieur Ragoul. “This is worse and worse!”