Then, with surprise at her previous forgetfulness, she bethought herself of the horn in her hand. That would bring assistance. She ought to have remembered it before. The shock had put it out of her mind. She was in the act of lifting it to her lips when again her nerves were shaken by a new cry from the inner recesses of the Maze. “Murder!” She recognised Howard’s voice, tinged with horror. It was a loud-voiced ejaculation rather than a cry for assistance, she felt with relief. Howard hadn’t run into a trap. Before she could pull herself together, he shouted again, this time with the full strength of his lungs: “Murder! See that no one gets away from the Maze!” Vera’s nerves were almost attuned to the shock of the discovery. A picture of some swift and terrible act of violence crossed her mind. It must have been soon over, for she remembered that after the three cries she had heard no sound of any sort. Not twenty yards from her, it might be, a human being had been battered out of existence; and but for these cries she would have known nothing whatever. She raised her voice again. “Howard! I’m frightened. What’s happened?” “One of the Shandons has been killed. I blundered into the centre, trying to get to you. There’s blood on his coat.” He broke off for a moment, evidently gathering his breath, then again he shouted: “Murder! Help! Here in the Maze! Murder!” Vera held her breath, listening eagerly for some answering cry from the outer world which now seemed so peaceful and unattainable. Then in the silence, she heard the sound of a man running hard in the alleys of the Maze. “Is that you, Howard?” she called. “I hear someone running not far from where I am.” No sooner had she spoken than the noise of running footfalls ceased abruptly. “Is that you, Howard?” she called again, nervously. There came a sound of rustling and tearing, then Howard’s voice sounded across the labyrinth. “I’m here. I’m trying to get to you. I tried climbing the hedge, but it’s no good. What did you say? I didn’t catch it.” “There’s somebody moving about in the Maze, Howard. I heard his footsteps.” Howard Torrance’s voice replied with that baffling indeterminateness in direction which the Maze seemed to impart. “Can you hear me, Vera?” “Yes.” “Well, don’t utter another sound. Don’t use the horn. Keep absolutely quiet and try to make your way out of the Maze. If anyone comes round the corner, yell your head off; but unless you see something, keep silent and step softly. There’s someone in the Maze, and I don’t want him to know where you are.”