Hide the Baron Read Online Free PDF Page B

stood on the porch for several minutes, ears strained to catch sounds that just weren’t there. In the distance she could see a few lights, from the village of Orme Hill, where Jeff Liddicombe had the ‘Grey Mare’. That started her thinking about Priscilla, the story, the whole miserable business. It was a pity the innkeeper, Liddicombe, hadn’t dealt with his daughter before –
    Oh, be fair!
    She went in.
    It was nearly ten. Her head ached with a throbbing persistence which made reading out of the question. She wished she knew whether Garfield was going to send for her or not; he seldom went to bed later than ten, but this was an unusual night.
    She went up to her room and undressed, put on her dressing-gown and lay on the bed, not between the sheets. The room was tall and spacious, like all the others; far too big. It was like living in a place that was double life size, although after the first few days she hadn’t noticed it so much.
    She began to doze.
    She went to sleep.
    She did not know what time it was when she woke; and, waking, heard first the scream and then the shot somewhere below her.
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    She heard both sounds vaguely at first, as if they were something in a nightmare, forcing themselves upon her consciousness. She lay stiff and frightened; quivering. For a few seconds she heard nothing more, and was actually telling herself that it had been a nightmare, when she heard another scream, faint through thick walls, but unmistakable.
    She jumped off the bed, slipped, and pitched forward.
    She saved herself by grabbing the bed panel, and her heart thumped wildly. As she stood there, she heard two more sounds which she knew were shots, although they came from a long way off.
    She reached the door.
    As she opened it, and light came through from the passage, she heard running footsteps, and then another scream which was in the form of words.
    â€œStop him, stop him! ”
    As she ran into the hall, she thought: “He’s got a gun!” It was primitive thought, spurred by fear. She needed a weapon of some kind, and there was none she could use, except on the walls.
    A dagger.
    She could have her choice, but shrank from taking one and ran instead towards the running footsteps. The passage was never-ending, but now the sound of screaming had died away, there was only the running man.
    She reached the hall.
    The small door within the door was open wide. A man was moving towards it, staring along the passage down there, not looking up. She could see the top of his head, the small white patch, not larger than a half-crown, in the dark hair. He put a pale white hand on the door, and opened it wider. He didn’t look up, and the view she had of his face was distorted. He climbed through the doorway, withdrawing his right hand last; and in it was the gun.
    For the rest, there was silence.
    The door didn’t close.
    Joanna kept running, had paused only for the second when he had first appeared. Now she was called two ways; to follow him, and to go and see what had happened. Fear was like a scream inside her. She reached the foot of the stairs, and felt the wind coming in from the downs.
    Then she saw Gedde.
    He was moving unsteadily. Blood glistened at the corner of his mouth, his eyes looked huge and glittering. He was wearing a dark blue dressing-gown, very like his usual black, and his face was a dirty white colour. He held a gun in his right hand, pointing towards the door. He tried to run, but almost fell.
    â€œGedde!” Joanna cried.
    He looked up at her, and his mouth opened, but she couldn’t hear the words. He made a fluttering movement with his empty hand, and she gathered that he was telling her to go to the door and follow the man. She hesitated, out of her dread; and as she did so, Gedde pitched forward, the gun struck the floor and slithered towards her.
    Gedde hit the floor so heavily that the thud of his falling made Joanna flinch.
    The gun was only a few feet