“ ‘Now, if ever, greet your worshippers! You have a sacrifice worthy of you. Come! Come!’
“But even above his voice there rang another, more violent, more terrible, and it uttered one word only.
“ ‘Murder!’
“I saw Robin Webster turn about towards the room; I saw Evelyn Devenish with the hilt of a knife upright above her heart, and her breast striped with blood; I felt myself caught up in a whirl of people, and then I heard above the uproar an order given with authority:
“ ‘Lock the door! No one must go!’
“I dived, I reached the little door in the panelled wall. I opened it and slipped through. There was a bolt on that inner side. I shot it into its socket and raced down the staircase, tearing the surplice off me as I ran. It was white, and even in the darkness would guide a pursuit. I dropped it in the back entrance of the house, ran through the garden, unlatched the gate with a hand protected by the cassock, and ran down the hill towards Suvlac. There was no pursuit. In the confusion my escape was overlooked.
“But it couldn’t be overlooked for long. I knew authority when I heard it. The voice which had ordered, ‘Lock the door! No one must go!’—I know now that it was the voice of Arthur Tidon, the judge. Then I only knew that it was the voice of a man with the habit of command and his wits under control. Neither Monsieur de Mirandol nor Robin Webster frightened me now. It was the unknown owner of that voice. I took my mask off my head and carried it in my hand. I ran past the farm buildings—they were all in darkness—and up the slope to the Château Suvlac. I looked to the house of Mirandol on the hill. The lights were still blazing in the long upper room. They were debating there still; but with authority to conduct the debate. The debate wouldn’t last long. They must act, and again I thought, with the authority of that voice to direct the action, it would be swift and decisive.
“I let myself into the house by the glass door of the drawing-room, and crept along the passage to Diana’s room. I unlocked the door and turned up the light. She had not stirred since I had left her. I locked the door now from the inside. I had to undress her and put her properly to bed. That was absolutely urgent. Up there on the hill, when it came to counting heads, the absence of the acolyte was certain to be discovered. They had already without a doubt discovered it now—Robin Webster and de Mirandol and the man with the voice. They would not be disturbed, however, so long as they believed the acolyte to be Diana. They would assume that she had fled, just as I did flee, at the first commotion.
“ ‘No one,’ I argued, ‘of all those present can afford to give one word of information about this crime. They dare not confess that they were assisting at this abominable blasphemy. Robin Webster knew that very well when he planned to commit it. They are all his confederates, bound by their own interests to the strictest secrecy. Very well. Very likely everyone will be compelled to unmask. Certainly they will disperse at once, and two or three will be left to decide what to do—Robin Webster, Monsieur de Mirandol and the Voice. But what those three decide they must tell Diana. They must prepare her for the morning. They must come here tonight and soon—very soon. If they find her asleep in the dress she wore this evening, they must know that I took her place.
“So I set to work. Oh, but it was difficult! I had to be very gentle lest I should wake her. She was a good weight too. I had to get everything off and her pyjamas on. It was done at last, but, oh, the time it took! Every moment I expected the sound of a footfall in the corridor. I got her properly into her bed, then I turned out the light, unlocked the door, left it shut and unlocked, and stole up the staircase to my own room. I locked myself in, turned on my light, and like a fool collapsed on my bed. I didn’t faint, but I felt—oh, awful! I cried until it seemed impossible that I had any tears left. I had to stuff the bed sheet into my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I felt that I was falling right through the bed down precipice after precipice. I thought that I was dying.
“I don’t know how long the fit lasted. But after a time I sat up with just one longing—to get into the open air. With my windows shuttered and the door locked, I was
