The Five Knots

by Fred M. White

  *CHAPTER XXVII*

  *NO FOE OF HERS*

  The house was quiet enough now. The whole place was plunged indarkness; even Cotter had forgotten his terror and was dreaminguneasily. As for Beatrice, she had thrown herself upon her bed, wornout with fatigue and anxiety and for some time she slept. Her room andthe dressing-room beyond were not dark, seeing that they faced the frontof the house and the street lamps shone upon the windows. She lay atfirst unconscious of her surroundings, but by and by she grewuncomfortable and awoke with a start. She could hear and see nothingbeyond the dim shadows of the various objects in the room, untilgradually her eyes began to grow accustomed to the gloom and she coulddistinguish her dressing-table in the small room beyond. Sherecollected hazily that she had placed her diamond moth with the rest ofthe jewelry on the table. In a drowsy sort of way she was chidingherself for her carelessness when she seemed to see a hand movingnoiselessly over the toilet articles. For a moment Beatrice put theimpression aside as a mere fancy, but kept her eyes fixed on the spottill she knew that she was no longer mistaken. Somebody was in the roomand bending curiously over the diamond moth. A moment later a shadowyarm waved and a second figure joined the first. The two dim outlinesstood with clasped hands gazing rapturously at the moth, much as someheathen might regard a precious idol. Beatrice could see the intruder'slips moving as if in prayer. Evidently they had found some talismanwhich was engrossing their attention and probably keeping them from moreserious work.

  The girl lay still and rigid, too terrified to move, and incapable ofuttering a syllable. For the life of her she could not have screamed,she was so overcome with dread. How long this scene lasted it wasimpossible for Beatrice to say. She knew that danger sharp and horriblewas here. Then it flashed into her mind that the peril was not for her.The thought nerved her to exertion. She dragged herself from her bedand threw a wrap over her shoulders.

  A new wild courage was burning in her veins. Action was better thanlying quaking and fearing the worst. With a firm step she crossed thefloor and walked into the dressing-room. Then, before she had time tospeak or move, unseen hands were laid upon her shoulders and she wasdragged backwards, not with violence, not with anger, but with aconsiderate firmness that would brook no denial. An instant later and asmall blue light flickered on the floor, throwing up a sweet fragrantincense which Beatrice found infinitely soothing to the senses. Sheseemed to rock and sway. She felt herself lifted from the floor, andthen she dropped into a deep sleep and knew no more.

  When she came to herself again her mind was wonderfully fresh and clear.Like a flash she saw everything that had happened. Like a flash it cameto her that these intruders were no other than the strange visitors whohad made themselves so much at home at Maldon Grange. Beatrice was notin the least afraid; at least, she had no fear for herself. Whateverthose uncanny creatures were searching for, they had no quarrel withher; indeed, they had gone out of their way to save her from theconsequences of her interference. But if the danger were not for her,for whom was it intended? The answer was obvious. Samuel Flower wasthe enemy. Samuel Flower was the victim whom these little men weretracking down in their relentless fashion. How long had she beenasleep?

  She looked at her watch, but there was nothing to learn from that. Shepartly dressed herself with a view to arousing the household. As sheopened the door leading to the landing she heard sounds of a struggleoutside. With unsteady hand she turned up the lights, and, locked in adeadly grip, almost at her feet, were one of the strangers and anotherman whom she did not recognize at the moment. As the two rolledheadlong down the steps, Beatrice gave a sharp cry, for she had seen thewhite, set face of Wilfrid Mercer. The thing was all over almost beforeshe realized that it was begun. One assailant had vanished, goodnessonly knew where, and Wilfrid lay on his back bruised, battered, and allbut unconscious. Thoughts for his safety uppermost in her mind,Beatrice flung prudence to the winds. She flew downstairs and raised herlover's head just as he was opening his eyes. Nothing seemed to matterso that he were safe, and with unfeigned thankfulness Beatrice heardWilfrid mutter her name.

  "You are not hurt?" she asked anxiously.

  "Not so very much, I think," Mercer said as he struggled to his feet."But the man nearly choked the life out of me all the same."

  "What has happened?" Beatrice asked. "How did you get here? Whatbrings you in the house at this time in the morning?"

  Wilfrid pressed his hands to his head. He was too dazed to replycoherently. Then as his mind cleared, events began to adjustthemselves, and the strange panorama of the night unfolded itselfslowly.

  "I will tell you," he said. "I am here because I happen to know thatyour uncle is in imminent danger. How I got into the house doesn't muchmatter. I came here without ceremony, and I was making my way upstairswhen I interrupted that man and had to fight for my life. But hadn't webetter ascertain that your uncle is safe?"

  "Oh, yes," Beatrice said eagerly. "I am afraid we shall not be able toget into his room. He always locks himself in and the door of hisbedroom is lined with steel, as a precaution against burglars orsomething of that kind, so he said."

  Wilfrid waited to hear no more. He was quite himself by this time.Followed by Beatrice he went quietly up the stairs until he came to thedoor of her uncle's room. He tried the lock, but it resisted all hisefforts. It did not seem prudent to call out in case something terriblemight be going on inside.

  "Is there no other way?" Wilfrid whispered. "Is there no balcony at theback of the house, no creepers, or rain-pipes, or anything of that kind?Have no fear--forewarned, forearmed."

  "There is a balcony running all the way along," Beatrice explained. "Myuncle talks of having it removed, but he has not done so yet. I canhelp you through a bedroom window and you can creep along and see foryourself. But I implore you not to run into any danger."

  "It is a case of life or death," Wilfrid said gravely. "I will be asprudent as I can. But we must not lose time."

  Beatrice led the way into one of the back bedrooms and opened thewindow. Mercer crept along in the darkness cautiously until he came toa room both windows of which were lighted. One of the blinds was partlypulled up and one of the sashes raised a few inches. From beneath camea sweet, sickly scent which caused Mercer to reel as if a desire tosleep had suddenly seized him. It was only by holding his handkerchiefto his mouth and nose that he was able to lie down on the balcony andpeep under the blind. He could see Flower lying on his bed, apparentlyunconscious, with a white bandage around his forehead. He could see twofigures flitting about the room, like doctors during an operation. Fora moment Flower's two hands were raised above his head, then fellhelplessly again by his side.

  What infernal thing was going on? What black art was being practised bythese miscreants? Flesh and blood could stand it no longer. Wilfridforced the sash to its utmost capacity and dashed into the room.Seizing a chair he whirled it round his head and made a wild lunge atone of the would-be assassins. At the same time he cried out for othersto follow him as if he had assistance at hand. Almost immediately thelight was extinguished; there was a rustle of figures in the darknessand Wilfrid knew that he was alone. The sweat was pouring off his facewith the horror of it all. He groped round the walls until he found theswitch and flooded the place once more with the welcome rays. He couldsee the key was inside the door. He opened it widely and called forBeatrice. Then he turned to the figure on the bed. The white bandagewas gone from Flower's head and he lay still and motionless. So far asMercer could see he did not breathe. Beatrice entered full of anxiety.

  "What is it?" she whispered. "Is he dead?"

  "I don't know," Wilfrid said. "It is impossible to say. You must rousethe household at once and send for the nearest doctor or the nearesthalf-dozen for that matter. I want a brain specialist if he can be got.Will you go at once, please. Every moment is priceless."