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II. The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor
“Ishalllockit,so!”
“Don’tdothat,”shegasped,“ifitshouldcomeopennow——”
Andevenasshespoketheimpossiblehappened.Thelockeddoorslowlyswungopen.IcouldnotseeintothepassagefromwhereIsat,butsheandPoirotwerefacingit.Shegaveonelongshriekassheturnedtohim.
“Yousawhim—thereinthepassage?”shecried.
Hewasstaringdownatherwithapuzzledface,thenshookhishead.
“Isawhim—myhusband—youmusthaveseenhimtoo?”
“Madame,Isawnothing.Youarenotwell—unstrung——”
“Iamperfectlywell,I——Oh,God!”
Suddenly,withoutanywarning,thelightsquiveredandwentout.Outofthedarknesscamethreeloudraps.IcouldhearMrs.Maltraversmoaning.
Andthen—Isaw!
ThemanIhadseenonthebedupstairsstoodtherefacingus,gleamingwithafaintghostlylight.Therewasbloodonhislips,andheheldhisrighthandout,pointing.Suddenlyabrilliantlightseemedtoproceedfromit.ItpassedoverPoirotandme,andfellonMrs.Maltravers.Isawherwhiteterrifiedface,andsomethingelse!
“MyGod,Poirot!”Icried.“Lookatherhand,herrighthand.It’sallred!”
Herowneyesfellonit,andshecollapsedinaheaponthefloor.
“Blood,”shecriedhysterically.“Yes,it’sblood.Ikilledhim.Ididit.Hewasshowingme,andthenIputmyhandonthetriggerandpressed.Savemefromhim—saveme!he’scomeback!”
Hervoicediedawayinagurgle.
“Lights,”saidPoirotbriskly.
Thelightswentonasifbymagic.
“That’sit,”hecontinued.