Israel Rank : $b The autobiography of a criminalHorniman, Roy
General
Israel Rank : $b The autobiography of a criminal
Horniman, Roy
Criminals -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Humorous stories
I was the only guest, and we retired early. I had, of course, seen
nothing of Esther Lane. As I walked on the terrace and smoked my cigar
I wondered if she were thinking of me. I paused at a spot which was at
the extreme end of one of the horns of a semicircle. At the end
opposite to me were the rooms in which she was nursing her invalid. I
stood looking at them thoughtfully. I was thinking of what Lady
Gascoyne had said as to the disease now being at its most infectious
stage. Contact, or the use of the same article, such as a towel or a
handkerchief, might convey the infection. I might be doing something
to advance my cause instead of idly puffing at my cigar. The invalid’s
rooms were several hundred feet away, and to reach them I should have
to scale a parapet some ten feet in height, but it was no more than I
could manage. I walked slowly round the semicircle. The night was
strangely mild, and it was not improbable that the windows would be
open.
I knew the apartments. They had once been occupied by a mad Earl
Gascoyne, and had in his day been securely barred.
These bars had, however, long since been removed, and I remembered
thinking the rooms almost the pleasantest in the castle. They were
some distance from the rest of the living part. When I reached the
terrace I saw that there was a narrow stone staircase which I had not
before noticed. At the top of this was an iron gate which would have
to be climbed. Just then I heard steps on the terrace above me, and I
had hardly time to draw into the shadow of a buttress when Esther Lane
appeared, leaning over the low wall above my head. I threw down my
cigar and stamped on it, for it might have been its scent borne on the
night air which had attracted her.
She looked about her for a few seconds and went back. I waited for an
hour or so until the lights were turned down for the night. I wondered
which of the two women was watching by the bedside of the invalid.
After a time I ascended the staircase and surveyed the iron gate at
the top. It looked rickety, and it would be difficult to climb over it
without making a noise. If the trained nurse found me it would not be
easy to explain my presence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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