"Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. Few men could have done as much. But what are you doing here?” “Old Père Runeval met me on your doorstep, and he would not let me go. “You really couldn’t ride in it,” he said, deprecatingly. Before leaving the place he looked upwards, and could just discern the blue vault and pale stars of Heaven through an iron grating at the top. 1.
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