“It’s this horrid storm,” she said.  “Violet’s upset.  Ah, here is Mrs. Briggs!  Darling, wouldn’t you like to go upstairs and lie down again till it’s over?  Do, dearie!  I’ll look after Nick and Max.”

But Violet’s straining arms clung faster.  “He’ll follow me!” she whispered.

“No, indeed he won’t, dear.  I won’t allow it,” said Olga, and she spoke with absolute confidence born of this new, strange feeling of power.  “You needn’t be afraid of that,” she said, with motherly, shielding arms about her.  “Won’t you go with Mrs. Briggs?  I will come up presently.  Really there’s nothing to be afraid of.  The storm won’t hurt you.”

“And you won’t let Max come?” Violet was suffering herself to be led towards the further door.  She was shivering violently and moved spasmodically, as though the impulse to escape strongly urged her.

“I promise,” Olga said.

She passed under the archway with her, paused there while another furious burst of thunder rolled above them:  then gently surrendered her to Mrs. Briggs, and turned back herself into the hall.

She found Max and Nick standing together in the gloom.

“I came up here on the chance,” the former was saying, “and got here just in time.  Hullo!  Is that a wolf?”

It was Cork, who crouched bristling against the table, with bared fangs, watching him.  Olga went to him and took him by the collar.

“He’s all right,” she said.  “I think he doesn’t like strangers.”

She led him also across the hall, took him to the foot of the stairs, and returned.

She felt Max’s eyes upon her as she came up.  He seemed to be regarding her in a new light.

“Well?” he said.  “Why this hysteria?  Is it due to the storm or—­some other cause?”

She hesitated, finding it somehow difficult to give an answer to his cool questioning.

“I’ll tell him, shall I?” said Nick.

She came and slipped her hand into his.  “Yes, Nick.”

He squeezed her fingers hard.  “Our friend Hunt-Goring has been sticking his oar in,” he said.  “This—­hysteria has been caused by him.”

“You mean he has told her the whole story?” said Max.

“Yes,” said Olga.

He considered the matter for a few seconds in silence.  “And how long has this sort of thing been going on?” he asked then.

Again she hesitated.

He looked at her.  “It’s no good trying to keep anything from me,” he observed.  “I’ve seen it coming for a long while.”

“Oh, Max!” she burst forth involuntarily.  “Then it really is—­”

A vivid flash of lightning and instant crashing thunder drowned her words.  Instinctively she drew nearer to Nick.  On many a previous occasion they had watched a storm together with delight.  But to-day her nerves were all a-quiver, and its violence appalled her.

As the noise died away, Max looked about the shadowy place.  “Is there any means of lighting this tomb?” he asked.