“I was frightened,” said Corole, her voice harsh. “I thought—Never mind what I thought. I—” She tried to smile and the grimace she made was dreadful. “I must have fainted. I’m sorry. Sorry to disturb you.”
This apology was not like Corole. I started to speak, stopped myself, started again. No one seemed to hear me.
Dr. Hajek cleared his throat.
“Was there—anything wrong?” he asked in what struck me as rather belated inquiry.
“I—” began Corole again. Her face was looking a little less hideous, and by the time she had finished she seemed more like herself. “I did not know that there was a patient in the room. I saw his figure in bed, there. It frightened me. I screamed. And fell. I suppose I roused the whole hospital. Really, Miss Keate, I do not think you should have put a patient in this room.”
It was like the hussy to try to blame me, and indignation almost choked me. While I was stuttering for a suitable reply Maida spoke. At the first word I glanced at her in amazement and saw Dr. Balman and Dr. Hajek follow my gaze.
“And what were you doing in this room?” asked Maida. Her eyes were like twin swords, her straight black brows stern. “You had no honest business in this room, Corole Letheny! Why did you come here?”
Corole’s head jerked toward Maida with a flash of green light from those crafty eyes.
For a moment the two women surveyed each other, neither faltering in her steadily inimical regard. I moved uneasily and in the hush I heard one or two signal lights clicking. At the sound I pulled myself together; we should have another panic on our hands if we did not take care.
“Yes, Corole,” I said decisively. “Why did you come here? And how did you get into the room?”
“I think your presence demands an explanation,” added Dr. Balman quietly.
She looked at me, she swept Dr. Balman’s mild brown eyes, she flickered a green glance at Dr. Hajek, she drew her silk wrap more closely about her, she moved her brown hands uneasily up and down its collar, and she finally replied.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I got to thinking of Louis and somehow—got the idea that if I came over here I might be able to—to—” Her excuse died away from very lack of body, she took a long breath, and raised her eyelids insolently. “I felt I must see Room 18. So I came. I got in at the window. If you have nothing more to say—Good night.” Her strange eyes swept us and actually they harboured a gleam of amusement. Then she drew the cloak tightly about her, walked to the window, put one hand on the sill, and with a long, graceful movement swung herself over the sill and through the window. It was done with the nonchalance and ease of an animal and she did not even glance back at us. For an instant her gold hair shone beyond the window, then the screen came down upon a black void and she was definitely gone.
No one left in the room spoke. Dr. Hajek made a motion as if he thought to accompany her but thought better of it. Dr. Balman reached for Mr. Gastin’s pulse. Maida crossed the room swiftly and went into the corridor. As her starched skirts rustled past the bed Mr. Gastin took his eyes from the window.
“I think,” he said feebly. “I think I should like to have an upstairs room.”
“We’ll see in the morning,” I said absently.
“In the morning!” observed Mr. Gastin with feeling. “Do you think I’m going to stay in this haunted room for the rest of the night!”
And believe it or not, we had to give up and bundle him on a truck and take him to a temporary bed in the charity ward! This was the first time in all my years of nursing that I was so influenced by a patient and this was not accomplished without resistance on my part and extremely sulphuric language on his. In fact, he proved to be versatile in the latter respect, attaining heights that made my hair stand on end. Dr. Balman was quite scarlet at the end of one climactic triumph and sent Dr. Hajek hurriedly for the truck.
So, all in all, it was not until I was back in the wing, and our patients had been assured by the story of a mouse that Maida in a burst of unexpected mendacity brought forth, and things were quiet and peaceful again, that I began to wonder what had been the purpose of Corole’s visit.
And it was clear to me, all at once, that she was looking for something.
What could that something be—the radium? Could Corole believe that the radium was still in Room 18? And if so, what reason had she for her belief?
And at the same time I recalled my promise to O’Leary to telephone to him if the night brought any disturbance. It was with some trepidation that I convinced myself that he could do nothing till morning anyway, and it was as well that I had forgotten my promise.
I did not for a moment believe Corole’s faltering attempt at an explanation. But at the same time it occurred to me that had she been of a mind to lie she could likely have invented a much more plausible and convincing tale than the one she told.
XI
By the Light of a Match
It was near morning by that time, and Maida and I had to work rapidly to get our patients washed and tooth-brushed and ready for the breakfast trays. To my satisfaction no one from the other wings appeared to have heard Corole’s scream, or
