The Hollow Needle | Page 5

darted down the corridor, followed by
Suzanne, who staggered from wall to wall, screaming as she went.
Raymonde reached the staircase, flew down the stairs, flung herself
upon the door of the big drawing room and stopped short, rooted to the
threshold, while Suzanne sank in a heap by her side. Facing them, at
three steps' distance, stood a man, with a lantern in his hand. He turned
it upon the two girls, blinding them with the light, stared long at their
pale faces, and then, without hurrying, with the calmest movements in
the world, took his cap, picked up a scrap of paper and two bits of straw,
removed some footmarks from the carpet, went to the balcony, turned
to the girls, made them a deep bow and disappeared.
Suzanne was the first to run to the little boudoir which separated the
big drawing-room from her father's bedroom. But, at the entrance, a
hideous sight appalled her. By the slanting rays of the moon, she saw
two apparently lifeless bodies lying close to each other on the floor.
She leaned over one of them:
"Father!--Father!--Is it you? What has happened to you?" she cried,
distractedly.

After a moment, the Comte de Gesvres moved. In a broken voice, he
said:
"Don't be afraid--I am not wounded--Daval?--Is he alive?--The
knife?--The knife?--"
Two men-servants now arrived with candles. Raymonde flung herself
down before the other body and recognized Jean Daval, the count's
private secretary. A little stream of blood trickled from his neck. His
face already wore the pallor of death.
Then she rose, returned to the drawing room, took a gun that hung in a
trophy of arms on the wall and went out on the balcony. Not more than
fifty or sixty seconds had elapsed since the man had set his foot on the
top rung of the ladder. He could not, therefore, be very far away, the
more so as he had taken the precaution to remove the ladder, in order to
prevent the inmates of the house from using it. And soon she saw him
skirting the remains of the old cloister. She put the gun to her shoulder,
calmly took aim and fired. The man fell.
"That's done it! That's done it!" said one of the servants. "We've got
this one. I'll run down."
"No, Victor, he's getting up.... You had better go down by the staircase
and make straight for the little door in the wall. That's the only way he
can escape."
Victor hurried off, but, before he reached the park, the man fell down
again. Raymonde called the other servant:
"Albert, do you see him down there? Near the main cloister?--"
"Yes, he's crawling in the grass. He's done for--"
"Watch him from here."
"There's no way of escape for him. On the right of the ruins is the open
lawn--"

"And, Victor, do you guard the door, on the left," she said, taking up
her gun.
"But, surely, you are not going down, miss?"
"Yes, yes," she said, with a resolute accent and abrupt movements; "let
me be--I have a cartridge left--If he stirs--"
She went out. A moment later, Albert saw her going toward the ruins.
He called to her from the window:
"He's dragged himself behind the cloister. I can't see him. Be careful,
miss--"
Raymonde went round the old cloisters, to cut off the man's retreat, and
Albert soon lost sight of her. After a few minutes, as he did not see her
return, he became uneasy and, keeping his eye on the ruins, instead of
going down by the stairs he made an effort to reach the ladder. When
he had succeeded, he scrambled down and ran straight to the cloisters
near which he had seen the man last. Thirty paces farther, he found
Raymonde, who was searching with Victor.
"Well?" he asked.
"There's no laying one's hands on him," replied Victor.
"The little door?"
"I've been there; here's the key."
"Still--he must--"
"Oh, we've got him safe enough, the scoundrel--He'll be ours in ten
minutes."
The farmer and his son, awakened by the shot, now came from the farm
buildings, which were at some distance on the right, but within the
circuit of the walls. They had met no one.

"Of course not," said Albert. "The ruffian can't have left the
ruins--We'll dig him out of some hole or other."
They organized a methodical search, beating every bush, pulling aside
the heavy masses of ivy rolled round the shafts of the columns. They
made sure that the chapel was properly locked and that none of the
panes were broken. They went round the cloisters and examined every
nook and corner. The search was fruitless.
There was but one discovery: at the place where the man had fallen
under Raymonde's gun, they