"And so did I," he answered. "The seizure is sharp and sudden, the
brain becoming paralysed. That is the condition of the young lady:
paralysis of the brain and heart, coma and collapse."
"But the cause?" I asked.
He was pale as death, yet he took no notice of his own condition.
"The cause?" he echoed, in his deep guttural German. "It is for us to
discover that. I have never met a more interesting case than this."
"Yes, it's interesting enough," I admitted; "but recollect the lady. We
must not neglect her."
"We are not neglecting her," he responded reprovingly. "Now that we
know something of the symptoms, we may be able to save her. Before, we
were working entirely in the dark."
"But you are still ill," I said.
"No, no," he laughed; "it is nothing." And he passed across the
threshold and stood just within the room again.
Apparently he thought that the seat of the mystery lay in the doorway.
Then he rejoined us, but felt no further symptoms.
There was evidently some uncanny but unseen influence contained within
that apartment, but what it was we could not discover. All that was
plain to us was the fact that any person emerging from it must be struck
down as by an ice-cold hand.
Together we returned to the boudoir, and, to our satisfaction, saw an
unmistakable sign that life was not entirely extinct. My love had
moved!
"Good!" exclaimed the old German. "I go again to get something else."
And, without further word, he crammed his shabby soft felt hat upon his
head and hurried out.
"The mystery of that room is most extraordinary," I remarked to her
ladyship when we were alone. "Has the influence ever been felt there
before?"
"Not to my knowledge," she responded. "Never before to-night."
"Never before the entrance of that strange woman?" I suggested.
"Exactly! It is an absolute mystery."
"And you have no knowledge of whom that person was?"
"None whatever."
"Not even a surmise?" I inquired rather dubiously.
My thoughts reverted to what I had overheard regarding the unwelcome
presence in London of that woman known as "La Gioia."
"No, not even a surmise," she answered.
Should I tell her of my own suspicions? No. To keep my knowledge to
myself and seek to discover the key to the problem was my best course.
"And your cousin was with her for twenty minutes, you say?"
"Yes, about that time," she replied. "I did not hurry to finish my
dinner as I believed Beryl was talking with the dressmaker regarding
some alterations to an evening bodice which she had mentioned to me.
They did not interest me, therefore I sat awaiting her return."
"And by that time this woman, whoever she was, had already slipped out
of the house."
"She must have done so. No one heard her leave."
"Let us hope that Hoefer will solve the enigma. If any one is able, he
is."
"But first urge him to bring poor Beryl back to consciousness," she
said, turning to gaze upon the still inanimate form of the woman I
adored.
At that moment the German returned, puffing and grunting, for he had
hurried, and the perspiration was rolling off his brow.
He took several little packets from his pocket, and, seating himself at
the table, commenced to carefully prepare another solution, the
ingredients of which were unknown to me. Some of the drugs I knew by
their appearance, of course, but others were white powders, impossible
to recognise.
Again he administered an injection into the arm of my prostrate loved
one, and then we all three stood in silence watching for the effect.
Hoefer gave vent to a further grunt of confidence, glanced at his watch,
and turned back to the table to rearrange his array of drugs. I saw
that the little pocket-case lying on the table contained about twenty
tiny tubes about an inch and a half long; each contained very small
pilules of tabloids, coloured brightly to render them more easily
distinguishable, and not much larger than ordinary shot. Each tube was
marked, but by mysterious signs unknown in British pharmacology.
The action of this last prophylactic was slow, but signs were
nevertheless not wanting that its effect was to reanimate, for by
degrees the deathly pallor of the sweet face I adored became less
marked, and the lips showed red instead of that ashen hue which had told
us of her nearness to death.
The German returned to her, and, feeling her pulse, counted the seconds
upon his watch, while at the same time I listened to the respiration.
"Good?" exclaimed the old fellow, beaming through his glasses. "The
diagnosis is correct, and the refocillation is more rapid than I should
have expected. She will recover."
Suddenly the pallid cheeks became flushed. Life was returning. The
liquid injected into the blood bad at last neutralised the effect,
stimulated the circulation, reanimated the whole system, and revived the
flickering spark of life. The hand I held grew warmer, the pulse
throbbed more quickly, the breathing became regular, and a few minutes
later, without warning, she opened her eyes and looked wonderingly
around. A loud cry of joy escaped my lips. My love was saved.
"You know me, I think?" I said, bending down to her. "My name is
Colkirk."
"Yes, I know you quite well," she responded very faintly. "But what has
happened? Where is she?"
"Whom do you mean? Your visitor?"
"Yes," she responded eagerly.
"We have no idea," I replied. "You have been taken ill, and my friend
here. Doctor Hoefer, has been attending you."
"How do you feel?" the old German asked in his brusque manner.
"I am very thirsty," she answered.
He took the decanter, and, mixing a little brandy and water, gave it to
her.
Then just at that moment her ladyship re-entered, and, falling on her
knees, clasped her cousin around the neck and shed wild tears of joy.
Liquid beef and other restoratives having been administered, the woman
whose appearance had been identical in every respect with that of the
dead was, ere long, able to sit up and talk with us. Her recovery had
been almost as rapid as her attack.
We questioned her regarding her symptoms, and found them exactly similar
to those we had ourselves experienced.
"I felt as though my whole body were frozen stiff and rigid," she
explained. "At first I heard a strange voice about me--the voice of
Doctor Colkirk, I suppose it must have been--speaking with Nora; but I
was unable to make any sign. It was just as though I were in a kind of
trance, yet half-conscious of things about me. My muscles were
paralysed, and I knew that you believed me to be dead. The one horrible
thought that possessed me was that I might, perhaps, be buried alive."
"But you were not conscious the whole time?" Hoefer asked.
"No; I think I slept during the latter part of the seizure. How long
have I been lying here?"
"About two hours and a half," answered her cousin. "Do you feel able to
talk any more now?" I inquired.
"I feel much better," she responded. "The draught that your friend has
given me has had a wonderful effect. I'm quite restored." And she rose
to her feet and stood before us, little the worse for her experience,
save, perhaps, that the dark rings about her beautiful eyes showed that
her system had received a terrible shock.
"We want you to relate to us in detail what occurred when you entered
the morning-room to see the woman who called upon you."
She glanced inquiringly at her cousin, as though to obtain her
permission to speak.
"Nothing occurred," she answered; "she was sitting there awaiting me."
"She had sent in a message, and you thought it--as your dressmaker, did
you not?"
"Yes. And I was very much surprised to find that it was not."
"Was it some other person whom you knew?"
"I had never seen her before," answered the woman who was my wedded
wife. "She was tall, thin and dressed in black which seemed much the
worse for wear."
"Dark or fair?"
"Dark. But I could not see her features well because of her thick black
veil."
"She was young, I suppose?"
"Not very, I think. Her voice was low and rather refined."
"And how did she explain her reason for sending in a message that she
was your dressmaker? She must have been aware that you expected the
woman to call on you."
"She explained that the ruse was necessary, as she did not wish her
visit to be known, either to my cousin or to the servants."
"Why?"
"Because she had brought me a message."
"A message?" I exclaimed. "From whom?"
"A verbal message from--from a friend."
"And may we not know the name of that friend?" I asked. "There is a
most remarkable mystery connected with that room into which she was
shown, and, in order to solve the problem, we must be in possession of
the whole truth."
"What mystery?" Beryl inquired quickly, opening her eyes widely.
"Any person who enters is, on leaving, attacked just as you were. Your
cousin here, Doctor Hoefer, and myself, had all three experienced
exactly similar symptoms."
"That's most extraordinary!" she declared, in an incredulous tone.
"When I was seized it was not until I had left the room. I went out
with the object of obtaining a sheet of note-paper from the library in
order to write a reply to the message, but on emerging into the hall I
was suddenly seized, and returned to the morning-room at once. I stood
holding on to the table; but my limbs failed me, and I fell to the
ground."
"And then the woman who had called upon you slipped along the hall and
out into the street."
"I suppose she must have done, for I did not see her again. I tried to
call out, but could not. The electric light was suddenly switched off.
She must have done that on her way out."
"Cannot you tell us either of the nature of the message or from whom it
came?" I asked earnestly.
She was silent for a moment, glancing at her cousin. "No," she
answered; "I am unable to do that."