"And, of course, he must have
entered the carriage of his own free will?"
"In other words, on some pretext or other, he was lured in, then made
prisoner, and--!"
He paused suddenly and his hand met Miss Thorne's warningly. The silence
of the night was broken by the violent clatter of footsteps, apparently
approaching the embassy. The noise was unmistakable--some one was
running.
"The window!" Miss Thorne whispered.
She rose quickly and started to cross the room, to look out; Mr. Grimm
sat motionless, listening. An instant later and there came a tremendous
crash of glass--the French window in the hallway by the sound--then
rapid footsteps, still running, along the hall. Mr. Grimm moved toward
the door unruffled, perfectly self-possessed; there was only a narrowing
of his eyes at the abruptness and clatter of it all. And then the
electric lights in the hall flashed up.
Before Mr. Grimm stood a man, framed by the doorway, staring unseeingly
into the darkened room. His face was haggard and white as death; his
mouth agape as if from exertion, and the lips bloodless; his eyes were
widely distended as if from fright--clothing disarranged, collar
unfastened and dangling.
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