Was the message from her lover or from that villain Tattersett?
Her refusal piqued me, and I was half inclined to suggest that it was
from the one or the other. Still, in this marvellous maze of mystery, I
saw that it was not at all a judicious proceeding to show my hand. What
I already knew was of value to me in my efforts to piece together this
bewildering puzzle.
The more I reflected the more convinced I became that the visitor in
black was none other than the dreaded woman whose threatened vengeance
was known to be imminent--La Gioia the mysterious.
"The visitor did not touch you?" I asked. "Neither did she give you
any note?"
"No; the message was verbal. I went once to the library and obtained a
sheet of note-paper, but on returning found it to be soiled. Therefore
I went out again to get a second, sheet, and it was then that I felt a
sudden grip, just as though an icy breath had touched me. In an instant
I went cold all over, and my limbs became so benumbed that I could not
feel them."
"You did not suspect this woman of producing this effect upon you?"
Hoefer asked, grunting dubiously.
"Certainly not. How could she?"
"But her actions afterwards, in switching off the light and stealing
out, were suspicious."
"That's so; but how do you account for your own seizure nearly two hours
after her departure?"
"Ach!" he cried; "it is extraordinary--that is all we can say."
"The room is nothing less than a death-trap," I remarked. "And yet the
baneful influence is a mysterious one. I wish you could tell us the
name of the sender of the message, Miss Wynd. It would materially
assist us in our researches."
"I tell you that it was a friend who could have no object whatever in
making any attack upon my life," she answered, ambiguously.
"But this woman," I continued. "Are you certain that you do not know
her--that you have never met her before?"
"Quite certain," she responded without hesitation. "She was an utter
stranger."