The butler paused, and drawing a handkerchief from his pocket he wiped his pallid face, down which the sweat had started. He was staring wide-eyed into space, and his breath rasped in his throat.
"What did it say?" Odell asked.
Peters shuddered.
"I feel as if it was calling down a curse on me to repeat it, sir; but I'll never forget it to the longest day I live. It said: 'The first one gone! So shall they all go, one by one!' That was all; but it started me shaking like a leaf, and I didn't need anyone to tell me that poor Mrs. Lorne had passed away. I shut my door somehow and got to the side of my bed and sat down, straining my ears to listen for the sound of a footstep; but none came nor did that light show under my door again. I must have sat there for a good twenty minutes, for finally the clock in the church outside struck five; and in the morning they told me that Mrs. Lorne had died at twenty-five minutes to five."
"What did that voice sound like?" Odell spoke quickly, for the butler seemed to be upon the verge of collapse.
"It was low and more like a whisper, but clear and full of a horrid sort of joy as if the Thing, whatever it was, was gloating over what had happened. I—I haven't been the same since; for I keep hearing it in my ears all the time." Peters suddenly buried his face in his hands and sobbed aloud. "God help me, I hear it now."
