Expectation tingled in his cheeks and palms.
The silence grew more and more oppressive.

He could hear nothing but that soft brushing and the galloping pads outside, as of something that went round and round the house, weaving a coil of terror and death about the doomed inmates.
Suddenly from the adjoining chamber a cry burst forth, so shrill and terrible that not only Sholto but Malise also leaped to his feet.
"Mercy--mercy! Have mercy, La Meffraye!" it wailed.
Sholto rushed across the floor, striding the body of James Douglas in his haste.

He dashed the door of the inner chamber open and was just in time to see something dark and lithe dart through the window and disappear into the indigo gloom without.

From the bed there came a series of gasping moans, as from a man at the point of death.
"For God's sake bring a light!" cried Sholto, "there is black murder done here." His father ran to the hearth, and, seizing a birchen brand, the end of which was still red, he blew upon it with care and success so that it burst into a white brilliant flame that lighted all the house.

Then he, too, entered the room where Sholto, with his sword ready in his hand, was standing over the gasping, dying thing on the bed.
When Malise thrust forward his torch, lo! there, extended on the couch to which they had carried him two hours before, lay the yet twitching body of Caesar the cripple with his throat well nigh bitten away.
But La Meffraye was nowhere to be seen..