The Dark Star

"They themselves are caught, and do not even know it. They too will

face a squad of execution before the sun rises tomorrow. And they

never dream of it up there----"

She made a hopeless gesture: "What is the use! When I came here from the Turkish Embassy, hearing

that you were here but believing the information false, I discovered

you conversing with a Russian spy--overheard her warn you to leave

this house.

"And there, all the while, unknown to me, in the salle de jeu were

Curfoot and that unspeakable scoundrel Brandes! Why, the place was

swarming with enemies--and I never dreamed it!... Yet--I might have

feared some such thing--I might have feared that the man, Brandes, who

had betrayed me once, would do it again if he ever had the chance....

And he's done it."

There was a long silence. Ilse stood staring at the melancholy greyish

light on the window panes.

She said as though to herself: "I shall never see another daybreak."... After a moment she turned and

began to pace the attic, a strange, terrible figure of haggard youth

in the shadowy light. "How horribly still it is at daybreak!" she

breathed, halting before Neeland. "How deathly quiet----"

The dry crack of a pistol cut her short. Then, instantly, in the dim

depths of the house, shot followed shot in bewildering succession,

faster, faster, filling the place with a distracting tumult.

Neeland jerked up his pistol as a nearer volley rattled out on the

landing directly underneath.

Sengoun, exasperated, shouted: "Well, what the devil is all this!" and ran toward the head of the

stairs, his pistol lifted for action.

Then, in the garret doorway, Weishelm appeared, his handsome face

streaming blood. He staggered, turned mechanically toward the stairs

again with wavering revolver; but a shot drove him blindly backward

and another hurled him full length across the floor, where he lay with

both arms spread out, and the last tremors, running from his feet to

his twitching face.