The door opposite the staircase opened slowly, and noiselessly Gurn emerged from the darkness and went towards Lady Beltham. The murderer flung himself at her feet, covered her face with kisses, and pressed her hands in his.
“Maud!” he called. “Maud!”
She did not answer and he hunted about the room for something to revive her. Presently, however, she recovered consciousness unaided and uttered a faint sigh. Her lover hurried to her.
“Oh, Gurn,” she murmured, laying her white hand on the wretch’s neck: “it’s you, dear! Come close to me, and hold me in your arms! It was too much for me! I almost broke down and told everything! I could have borne no more. Oh, what an appalling time!” She sat up sharply, her face drawn with terror. “Listen: I can hear him still!”
“Try not to think about it,” Gurn whispered, caressing her.
“Did you hear him, how he kept on saying ‘I am not Gurn! I am not Gurn!’ Oh, heaven grant they may not find that out!”
Gurn himself was shaken by the horror of the plot he had contrived with his mistress to effect this substitution of another for himself; it surpassed in ghastliness anything that had gone before, and he had not dared to give the least hint of it to Nibet.
“The warders were well paid,” he said to reassure her now. “They would deny everything.” He hesitated a second, and then asked: “He drank the drug, didn’t he?”
Lady Beltham nodded assent.
“It will take effect. It was acting already: so rapidly, that I thought for a moment he would fall unconscious there, at my feet!”
Gurn drew a deep breath.
“Maud, we are saved!” he exclaimed. “See,” he went on, “as soon as it is light, and there are enough people in the street for us to mix with them unobserved, we will go away from here. While you were with—him—I burned my other clothes, so I will take these to get away in.” He picked up the hat and cloak which Valgrand had thrown upon the chair, and wrapped the heavy cloak around himself. “This will conceal me effectively.”
“Let us go at once!” Lady Beltham exclaimed, but Gurn stayed her.
“I must get rid of this beard, and my moustache,” he said, and he took a pair of scissors from his pocket and was walking towards a looking-glass when suddenly they both heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming slowly and steadily up the stairs. Gurn had no time to get back to his former hiding-place; all he could do was to sink into the one armchair that was in the room, and conceal his features as well as he could by turning down the brim of the hat and turning up the collar of the cloak which the actor had forgotten. The man went as white as a sheet, but Lady Beltham appeared to recover all her presence of mind, and strength, and daring, at the approach of danger, and she hurried to the door. But though she tried to keep it shut, it slowly turned upon the hinges, and a timid, hesitating figure appeared in the doorway and advanced towards the retreating woman.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Lady Beltham faltered.
“I beg you to excuse me, madame,” the man began, “I came to—” He caught sight of Gurn and pointed to him. “M. Valgrand knows me well. I am Charlot, his dresser at the theatre, and I came to—I wanted to have a word—stay—” he took a small square parcel from his pocket. “M. Valgrand went off so hurriedly that he forgot his pocketbook, and so I came to bring it to him.” The dresser was trying to get near the murderer, whom he supposed to be his master, but Lady Beltham, in the most acute anxiety, kept between the two men. Charlot misunderstood her intention. “I also came to—” He stopped again and whispered to Lady Beltham. “He does not speak: is he very angry with me for coming? I didn’t come out of curiosity, or to cause you any trouble, madame; will you ask him not to be very angry with his poor old Charlot?”
Lady Beltham felt like swooning again; she could endure very little of this old man’s garrulity.
“Go, for goodness’ sake, go,” she said peremptorily.
“I am going,” Charlot said; “I know I am in the way; but I must explain to him,” and he raised his voice and spoke to Gurn, who sat quite still, sinking as far as he could into the shadow of the chair. “You are not very angry with me, M. Valgrand, are you?” and getting no reply he looked apologetically at Lady Beltham. “It was all these stories, and then the street, and the prison opposite: but perhaps you do not know; you see, I read in the paper yesterday, or rather tonight, a couple of hours ago, that that man Gurn, who murdered the rich English gentleman, was to be executed this morning. And so I was rather what you might call uneasy; at first I only meant to follow M. Valgrand and wait for him down below, but I lost my way and I have only just arrived; I found the door open, and as I did not know whether he had gone or was still here, I took the liberty to come upstairs. But I am going now, quite easy in my mind, since he is quiet and happy here with you. And I beg your pardon, madame.” He threw a last appeal to where Gurn sat. “I hope you will forgive me, M. Valgrand?” He sighed as no answer was forthcoming, and made a pathetic
