"Isn't there a way of escape?" she urged feverishly. "Can't you think of one?"

But Olga looked back in silence, white and still.

"Allegro, don't you love me? Don't you want me to be happy?"

Incredulity, despair were in the pleading voice. "Don't you believe in paradise either, Allegro? Do you want me to be shut away in the dark--buried alive--buried alive?"

There was suddenly a note of anguish in the appeal. Violet drew herself slowly away, as though her friend's arms had ceased to be a haven to her.

But instantly, with a swiftness that was pa.s.sionate, Olga caught her back.

"I would die for you, my darling! I would sell my soul for you!" she said, and fierce mother-love throbbed in her voice. "But what can I do?

O G.o.d! what can I do?"

Her voice broke, and she stilled it sharply, as if taken off her guard.

"Can't you open the door for me?" Violet begged again. "Don't you know how?"

But still Olga had no answer for the cry. Only she held her fast.

There followed a long, long pause; then again Violet spoke, more collectedly than she had spoken at all.

"Do you know what that man said to me this morning? He told me I should be a homicidal maniac--like my mother. I didn't realize at the time what that meant. I was too horrified. I know now. And it was the truth.

That's what I want you to save me from. Allegro, won't you save me?"

"My darling, how can I?" The words were spoken below Olga's breath. The gathering darkness was closing upon them both.

Violet freed a hand and softly stroked her cheek. "Don't be afraid, dear! No one--but I--will ever know. And I-- Allegro, I shall bless you for ever and ever. Wait!" She suddenly started, with caught breath.

"Are we alone?"

"Mrs. Briggs is outside, dear," Olga told her gently.

"Oh! Dear old Nanny! She would never hold me back. She would understand.

Do you remember how she told us--that afternoon--about her mother?"

Yes, well Olga remembered. She had never forgotten. Back upon her mind flashed that vivid memory, and with it the memory of Max's eyes, green and intent, searching her face on the night that he had asked, "What do you know about the pain-killer?"

Violet's voice brought her back. "Where is he, Allegro? Is he still here?"

"No." Almost unconsciously Olga also spoke in a whisper. "He has gone back to Weir," she said. "He had to go; but--"

"But he will come back?" gasped Violet.

"Yes."

"Ah! And he may be here--at any time?" The words came quick and feverish; again that painful trembling seized her.

"He won't come in here," Olga said steadfastly.

"He will! He will!" breathed Violet. "I know him. There is nothing--he will not do--for the sake of his--profession." She broke off, gripping Olga with tense strength. "And I've nothing to defend myself with!" she panted. "They have taken--the knife--away!"

Tenderly Olga soothed her panic. "It will be all right, dear. I can take care of you. I can keep him away."

Violet relaxed against her again, exhausted rather than rea.s.sured. "And where is Nick?" she murmured presently.

"Downstairs, darling; in the hall."

"On guard," said Violet quickly. "What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?"

"My dearest, no! Only he wouldn't leave me. You know what pals we are,"

urged Olga. "Besides, you like Nick."

"Oh, yes; he amuses me. He is clever, isn't he? What was that he said about--about the opening--and the shutting--of a Door?"

Spasmodically the words fell. The failing brain was making desperate efforts against the gathering dark.

"He was speaking of Death," said Olga, her voice very low.

"Yes, yes! He said he wouldn't be afraid. And I'm sure he knew. He must have seen Death very often."

"I don't know, darling."

"Of course, the opening of the Door is to let us escape," ran on the feverish whisper. "And then it shuts, and we can't get back. But no one ever wants to get back, Allegro. Who ever wanted to go back into the prison-house--and the dreadful, dreadful dark?"

But Olga made no answer. With set face and quiet eyes she was waiting.

And already at the heart of her she knew that when the moment came she would not flinch.

"And how lovely to be free--to be free!" Soft and eager came the whisper from her breast. "Never to be dragged back any more. To leave the dark behind for ever and ever. For it isn't dark up there, you know. It's never dark up there. You can see the light shining even through the Gates. And G.o.d couldn't be angry, Allegro. Do you think He could?"

"Not with you, my darling! Not with you!"

"So you'll let me go," said Violet, with growing earnestness. "You'll help me to go, Allegro? You will? You will?"

"My darling, I will!" Quick and pa.s.sionate came the answer. The time had come.

For a few moments the arms that held her tightened to an almost fierce embrace; then slowly relaxed.

"Dear heart, I knew you would," said Violet.

She leaned back upon her pillow as Olga gently let her go, and through the deepening dusk she watched her with eyes of perfect trust.

There followed a pause, the tinkle of gla.s.s, the sound of liquid being poured out. Then Olga was with her again, very still and quiet.

Softly the door opened. "Anything I can do, Miss Olga?" murmured Mrs.

Briggs.

"Nothing, thank you," said Olga.

"That young Dr. Wyndham--'e's just come back," said Mrs. Briggs.