realize what Miss Delorme meant when she wrote that she feared for the safety of her manuscript.
Even as I stood there waiting, things started to happen in a most bewildering fashion. I heard somebody throw up a window on a side of the house (to my right), and then there came a woman’s scream, which sounded to me more angry than fearful. The scream was followed by a heavy, metallic clang upon the pavement just around the corner from where I stood. I left the gate and ran in the direction of the noise.
On the sidewalk lay a black tin box such as is often used to preserve papers of importance. It was dented badly where it had struck the pavement. I picked it up and then turned my eyes toward the windows above me.
An elderly woman stood at the open window nearest the corner of the house, holding with both hands to the window-frame at either side of her. Although she appeared to be alone, I received a strong impression that she was being pulled from behind, for she was struggling as if with all her power to maintain her position there. As I looked up, the tin box in my hand, she called to me anxiously.
"Who are you?"
I told her.
"Thank God you came in time!" she cried excitedly. "Take the box and get away from here as quickly as you can. Don’t let it out of your sight until it has been printed and the books distributed. You’ll understand why, when you’ve read it. Never mind about me! My work is done!"
As the last words were flung down at me, she disappeared backward into the room, as if pulled there by invisible hands.
I DID not doubt for a moment that I had been talking with Miss Sophie Delorme, and I saw no immediate reason for lingering in the vicinity. She spoke with a forcefulness that made a strong impression upon me. I felt intuitively that it was of infinite importance for me to leave that spot at once with the tin box and its precious contents. As for Miss Delorme, even if she needed assistance of some kind, I should hardly be able to clamber over that high wall; common sense urged me to call for other help, if it proved necessary.
I hugged the box tightly in my arms and ran away just as fast as I could go, forgetting dignity in my anxiety to carry out the other woman’s wishes. Even had I known what was to happen, I doubt if I should have lingered; there are some things in the world of more importance even than a human life, and when one recognizes this fact, one acts upon the knowledge when necessary. I know now that I did well to save the manuscript and to carry out Miss Delorme’s desire for its publication. It was well that I stood not upon the order of my going, for hardly had I reached the boulevard when a loud and terrible explosion rent the air.
I was flung upon the ground by the force of the concussion, still holding (oh, do not doubt it!) that black box in my arms. When I rose to my feet, dismayed by my premonitions, and turned to look, the Differdale residence with its high surrounding wall no longer marked the spot. A black and smoking mass bulked hugely in its place. Apparently Miss Delorme had not been far wrong when she had warned me that other than human powers would make their attempts to ruin the papers she had entrusted to me; I felt that something had, in a fury of disappointment, brought about her death and the ruin of that splendid and strange house, and that this same something would presently be upon my track.
The thought was more than sufficient for me. I rushed down into the subway and caught the next train
