As if in answer, Beelzebub's black face appeared in the entrance. His
eyes were distended with fright.
"Missis!" he hissed in a guttural whisper.
"Here's Boss comin'!" and disappeared again like a monstrous goblin.
Sybil glanced up at Curtis. "Don't let him come here!" she said.
But for once he seemed to be at a loss. He made no response to her
appeal. While they waited, the hoofs drew steadily nearer, thudding over
the grass.
"Mr. Curtis!" she said urgently.
He made a sharp, despairing gesture. "I can't help it," he said. "You
must go. For Heaven's sake, don't let him touch you, and burn the
clothes you have on as soon as possible! I am going to set fire to this
place immediately."
"Going to--set fire to it?" She stared at him in surprise, still
scarcely understanding.
"The poor chap is dead," he said. "It's the only thing to do."
She turned back to the face upon the pillow with its staring, sightless
eyes. She raised a pitying hand to close them, but Curtis intervened.
He drew her to her feet. "Go!" he said. "Go! Keep Mercer away, that's
all!"
She heard the jingling of a horse's bit and knew that the rider was very
near. Mechanically almost, she turned from the place of death and went
to meet him.