She fired on you?'
'No,' said Ravengar; 'I believe she would have done. It was Tudor who
drew a revolver and fired. Had I had my own--But I had laid it on a
table, like a fool, and it disappeared.'
'Is not this it?' asked Hugo, producing Camilla's weapon.
Ravengar nodded, amazed.
'I thought so,' Hugo said, and returned it to his pocket. 'Were you
wounded?'
'It was nothing. A scratch on the wrist. See! But I left. She--she
ordered me to. And I saw I had no chance. I came out by the principal
door on the balcony while you were struggling with the servants' door.'
'Wait a moment,' Hugo put in. 'Tudor knew you were hiding in the flat?'
'Not much!' exclaimed Ravengar. 'I dropped on him like something out of
the sky. It cost me some trouble to get in. I had a silly old
housekeeper to dispose of.'
Hugo's heart fell.
'Great heavens!' he sighed.
'Why? What's the matter?'
'Nothing. But tell me what you wanted to get into the flat for at all.
What is there between you and Tudor?'
'Man! he's taken Camilla from me!' The accents of rage and despair were
in Ravengar's voice as he uttered these words. 'He's taken her from me!
She was my typewriter, you know. I fell in love with her. We were
engaged!'
Hugo was startled for a moment; then he smiled bitterly and
incredulously.
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