He lowered his voice almost to a whisper in saying the last words.

The Canon formed “Why?” with his lips.

“Just now, as I was passing the garden here coming back from the Deanery, I heard a most dreadful cry.  I thought at the time that it came from an animal, but—­now——­”

The Canon stared at him almost sternly.

“We’d better not waste time,” he said.  “I wish you’d gone in then.”

And he turned bruskly.  He had opened the door, and was about to step on to the broad path which divided the front of the house from the lawn, when he heard steps approaching swiftly on the gravel.

“Some one coming!” he said.  “Stop where you are, Darlington.  I believe its . . .”

Before he could finish his sentence Rosamund came upon him out of the darkness.  Her face was distorted, so distorted that he scarcely recognized it.  It seemed to have shrunk and sharpened, and it had the look of fierceness which is characteristic of the faces of starving people.  She put out both her hands as she came up to him, pushed him with violence into the house, and followed him.

“Lock the door!” she whispered.  “Lock it!  Lock it!”

“But——­”

Her voice rose.  She seemed savage with fear.

“Lock it, I tell you!”

A long arm shot out and a bony hand turned the key in the door.

“It’s the only thing to be done for the moment,” said Mr. Darlington to the Canon.  “She’s mad with fear.”

Both the maids had disappeared, terrified by the face of their mistress.  Rosamund caught hold of the stair-rail and began to hurry upstairs, but Mr. Darlington followed her and seized her by the arm.

“Rosamund!  Rosamund!  What is it?”

She turned.

“I’m going to find Robin.  That man’s killed Robin!  Keep him out!  Keep him away from me!”

A dreadful surreptitious expression made her face hideous.  She leaned forward, nodding her head, and whispered in Mr. Darlington’s ear: 

“You keep him away from me while I find Robin.  He’s killed Robin!”

Her whole body began to shake.  Mr. Darlington put one arm round her.

“But, Rosamund——­”

Below, the handle of the door leading to the garden was turned, the door was shaken, and there came a knocking on the wood.

Then Mr. Darlington heard again the cry which had come to him that evening as he passed the garden of Little Cloisters.  His arm dropped.

Rosamund went frantically up the stairs and disappeared on the dark landing above.

BOOK IV —­ THE UNKNOWN GOD

CHAPTER I