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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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125 table. He could not help seeing the dead thing. How still it was! How horribly white the long hands looked! It was like a dreadful wax image. Having locked the door behind him, he crept quietly downstairs. The woodwork creaked, and seemed to cry out as if in pain. He stopped several times, and waited. No: everything was still. It was merely. the sound of his own footsteps. When he reached the library, he saw the bag and coat in the corner. They must be hidden away somewhere. He unlocked a secret press that was in the wainscoting, a press in which he kept his own curious disguises, and put them into it. He could easily burn them afterwards. Then he pulled out his watch. It was twenty minutes to two. He sat down and began to think. Every year-every month, almost- men were strangled in England for what he had done. There had been a madness of murder in the air. Some red star had come too close to the earth.... And yet what evidence was there against him? Basil Hallward had left the house at eleven. No one had seen him come in again. Most of the servants were at Selby Royal. His valet had gone to bed.... Paris? Yes. It was to Paris that Basil had gone, and by the midnight train, as he had intended. With his curious reserved habits, it would be months before any suspicions would be aroused. Months! Everything could be destroyed long before then. A sudden thought struck him. He put on his fur coat and hat, and went out into the hall. There he paused, hearing the slow, heavy tread of the policeman on the pavement outside, and seeing the flash of the bull’s-eye reflected in the window. He waited, and held his breath. After a few moments he drew back the latch, and slipped out, shutting the door very gently behind him. Then he began ringing, the bell. In about five minutes his valet appeared, half dressed, and looking very drowsy. “I am sorry to have had to wake you up, Francis,” he said, stepping in; “but I had forgotten my latchkey. What time is it?” “Ten minutes past two, sir,” answered the man, looking at the clock and blinking. “Ten minutes past two? How horribly late! You must wake me at nine to-morrow. I have some work to do.” “All right, sir.” “Did any one call this evening?” “Mr. Hallward, sir. He stayed here till eleven, and then he went away to catch his train.” “Oh! I am sorry I didn’t see him. Did he leave any message?” “No, sir, except that he would write to you from Paris, if he did not find you at the club.” “That will do, Francis. Don’t forget to call me at |
