THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
"God!" she gasped. "I have killed him!"
"You?" I cried, but she did not answer.
"Huh!" said Brutus, and his grin grew broader. "Monsieur's pistol. He kill him."
"Indeed," I said, for the sense of unreality was still strong upon me. "And whom did he kill, Brutus?"
Brutus cocked his head to one side, and listened. Somewhere behind came a confusion of shouts and the thudding of horses' hoofs.
"He kill Mr. Jason Hill," said Brutus.
"Are you sure?" Mademoiselle demanded sharply.
Brutus nodded, and the dull, fixed look went out of her eyes, and slowly a touch of color returned to her cheeks.
And then there was a clamor of voices and a tramp of feet and a crash on the door outside.
Brutus looked about him in wild indecision.
"We have callers," I observed, doing my best to keep my voice calm. "Who are they, Brutus?"
Brutus, however, had forgotten me, and had sprung into the hall. At almost the same instant, someone must have discovered that the door was unlocked, for a
[183]
