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Through the silent house,
across the placid lake, there rang a wild, shrill cry that froze the
blood in his veins, or seemed so to freeze it--a shriek of agony, and in
a woman's voice. It rang out from an open window near his own. The sound
seemed close to his ear.


CHAPTER X.
'O BITTERNESS OF THINGS TOO SWEET.'

Only for an instant did John Hammond stand motionless after hearing that
unearthly shriek. In the next moment he rushed into the corridor,
expecting to hear the sound repeated, to find himself face to face with
some midnight robber, whose presence had caused that wild cry of alarm.
But in the corridor all was silent as the grave. No open door suggested
the entrance of an intruder. The dimly-burning lamps showed only the
long empty gallery. He stood still for a few moments listening for
voices, footsteps, the rustle of garments: but there was nothing.
Nothing? Yes, a groan, a long-drawn moaning sound, as of infinite pain.
This time there was no doubt as to the direction from which the sound
came. It came from Lady Maulevrier's room.


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