The Circular Staircase - Page 71/154

I stood looking at the empty bed. The coverings had been thrown back,

and Louise's pink silk dressing-gown was gone from the foot, where it

had lain. The night lamp burned dimly, revealing the emptiness of the

place. I picked it up, but my hand shook so that I put it down again,

and got somehow to the door.

There were voices in the hall and Gertrude came running toward me.

"What is it?" she cried. "What was that sound? Where is Louise?"

"She is not in her room," I said stupidly. "I think--it was she--who

screamed."

Liddy had joined us now, carrying a light. We stood huddled together

at the head of the circular staircase, looking down into its shadows.

There was nothing to be seen, and it was absolutely quiet down there.

Then we heard Halsey running up the main staircase. He came quickly

down the hall to where we were standing.

"There's no one trying to get in. I thought I heard some one shriek.

Who was it?"

Our stricken faces told him the truth.

"Some one screamed down there," I said. "And--and Louise is not in her

room."

With a jerk Halsey took the light from Liddy and ran down the circular

staircase. I followed him, more slowly. My nerves seemed to be in a

state of paralysis: I could scarcely step. At the foot of the stairs

Halsey gave an exclamation and put down the light.

"Aunt Ray," he called sharply.

At the foot of the staircase, huddled in a heap, her head on the lower

stair, was Louise Armstrong. She lay limp and white, her dressing-gown

dragging loose from one sleeve of her night-dress, and the heavy braid

of her dark hair stretching its length a couple of steps above her

head, as if she had slipped down.

She was not dead: Halsey put her down on the floor, and began to rub

her cold hands, while Gertrude and Liddy ran for stimulants. As for me,

I sat there at the foot of that ghostly staircase--sat, because my

knees wouldn't hold me--and wondered where it would all end. Louise

was still unconscious, but she was breathing better, and I suggested

that we get her back to bed before she came to. There was something

grisly and horrible to me, seeing her there in almost the same attitude

and in the same place where we had found her brother's body. And to

add to the similarity, just then the hall clock, far off, struck

faintly three o'clock.

It was four before Louise was able to talk, and the first rays of dawn

were coming through her windows, which faced the east, before she could

tell us coherently what had occurred. I give it as she told it. She

lay propped in bed, and Halsey sat beside her, unrebuffed, and held her

hand while she talked.