“Have you found anything out yet?” she asked.
Was it my imagination that there was an undertone of fear rather than of hope in the question?
“We have taken every possible step, Mrs. Douglas,” said the inspector. “You may rest assured that nothing will be neglected.”
“Spare no money,” she said in a dead, even tone. “It is my desire that every possible effort should be made.”
“Perhaps you can tell us something which may throw some light upon the matter.”
“I fear not; but all I know is at your service.”
“We have heard from Mr. Cecil Barker that you did not actually see--that you were never in the room where the tragedy occurred?”
“No, he turned me back upon the stairs. He begged me to return to my room.”
“Quite so. You had heard the shot, and you had at once come down.”
“I put on my dressing gown and then came down.”
“How long was it after hearing the shot that you were stopped on the stair by Mr. Barker?”
“It may have been a couple of minutes. It is so hard to reckon time at such a moment. He implored me not to go on. He assured me that I could do nothing. Then Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, led me upstairs again. It was all like some dreadful dream.”
“Can you give us any idea how long your husband had been downstairs before you heard the shot?”
“No, I cannot say. He went from his dressing room, and I did not hear him go. He did the round of the house every night, for he was nervous of fire. It is the only thing that I have ever known him nervous of.”
“That is just the point which I want to come to, Mrs. Douglas. You have known your husband only in England, have you not?”
“Have you heard him speak of anything which occurred in America and might bring some danger upon him?”
Mrs. Douglas thought earnestly before she answered. “Yes,” she said at last, “I have always felt that there was a danger hanging over him. He refused to discuss it with me. It was not from want of confidence in me--there was the most complete love and confidence between us--but it was out of his desire to keep all alarm away from me. He thought I should brood over it if I knew all, and so he was silent.”
Mrs. Douglas's face lit with a quick smile. “Can a husband ever carry about a secret all his life and a woman who loves him have no suspicion of it? I knew it by his refusal to talk about some episodes in his American life. I knew it by certain precautions he took. I knew it by certain words he let fall. I knew it by the way he looked at unexpected strangers. I was perfectly certain that he had some powerful enemies, that he believed they were on his track, and that he was always on his guard against them. I was so sure of it that for years I have been terrified if ever he came home later than was expected.”