Читать книгу The Midnight Guest - Fred M. White - Страница 9

The suggestion of tragedy brooding in the darkness held Lance back just for the moment. He was almost afraid to proceed lest he should find something even worse than he had expected. Then his hand fumbled along the wall with the switches, and the great room burst into a glow of light again.

The place was absolutely empty, save for the figure of Lord Ravenspur huddled up upon the Persian rug. He was absolutely still and silent. As far as Lance could see he had ceased to breathe.

Naturally enough the young man looked about him for a sign of the miscreant, but the studio contained no trace of his presence. The thing was puzzling to the last degree. There was no exit from the room beyond the door which Walter had broken down, and nobody could possibly have passed him that way. Besides, the switches were just inside the door, and the light had been turned on almost immediately. At any rate, there was nobody there now except the victim of the attack himself, and Walter feared that he was already past any explanation of the strange affair.

That would have to keep for the present. Walter bent over and raised Lord Ravenspur's head and shoulders. He was still alive, for his eyes were wide open, though no words came from his lips. At the same time he seemed to be struggling for speech which would not come. Then he raised a shaking arm and contrived to pull Walter's head down close to his lips. The words came at length in a faint whisper, a whisper so low, that Walter had the greatest difficulty in following it.