the dark. But you say he went abroad on a second and more recent occasion?”
“Yes, not much more than a month ago. And after that, somehow or other, matters seemed to come to a head. I confess I became horribly frightened, but to have left would have seemed like desertion, and Madame de Stämer has been so good to me.”
“Did you actually witness any of the episodes which took place about a month ago?”
Val Beverley shook her head.
“I never saw anything really definite,” she replied.
“Yet, evidently you either saw or heard something which alarmed you.”
“Yes, that is true, but it is so difficult to explain.”
“Could you try to explain?”
“I will try if you wish, for really I am longing to talk to someone about it. For instance, on several occasions I have heard footsteps in the corridor outside my room.”
“At night?”
“Yes, at night.”
“Strange footsteps?”
She nodded.
“That is the uncanny part of it. You know how familiar one grows with the footsteps of persons living in the same house? Well, these footsteps were quite unfamiliar to me.”
“And you say they passed your door?”
“Yes. My rooms are almost directly overhead. And right at the end of the corridor, that is on the southeast corner of the building, is Colonel Menendez’s bedroom, and facing it a sort of little smoke-room. It was in this direction that the footsteps went.”
“To Colonel Menendez’s room?”
