“The nurse,” Miss Dale whispered, “when she is on duty, leaves that door open so that she can watch me; when she goes downstairs, she locks and bolts the door from that room to the hall. It's locked now.”
The girl gave a shudder that seemed to Ford sufficiently descriptive. Her lips tightened in a hard, straight line.
“She's not human,” she said. “I begged her to help me, appealed to her in every way; then I tried a dozen times to get past her to the stairs.”
The girl frowned, and with a gesture signified her surroundings.
She bent suddenly forward and, with her hand on his shoulder, turned the man so that he faced the cot.
“The mattress on that bed,” she whispered, “rests on two iron rods. They are loose and can be lifted. I planned to smash the lock, but the noise would have brought Prothero. But you could defend yourself with one of them.”
Ford had already run to the cot and dropped to his knees. He found the mattress supported on strips of iron resting loosely in sockets at the head and foot. He raised the one nearer him, and then, after a moment of hesitation, let it drop into place.
“That's fine!” he whispered. “Good as a crowbar.'” He shook his head in sudden indecision. “But I don't just know how to use it. His automatic could shoot six times before I could swing that thing on him once. And if I have it in my hands when he opens the door, he'll shoot, and he may hit you. But if I leave it where it is, he won't know I know it's there, and it may come in very handy later.”
In complete disapproval the girl shook her head. Her eyes filled with concern. “You must not fight him,” she ordered. “I mean, not for me. You don't know the danger. The man's not sane. He won't give you a chance. He's mad. You have no right to risk your life for a stranger. I'll not permit it----”
Ford held up his hand for silence. With a jerk of his head he signified the door. “They've stopped talking,” he whispered.
Straining to hear, the two leaned forward, but from the hall there came no sound. The girl raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“If I knew that,” protested Ford, “we wouldn't be here!”
In answer to his doubt a smart rap, as though from the butt of a revolver, fell upon the door. The voice of Prothero spoke sharply: