He knew that MacDougall was looking
upon his weakness, but he did not at first see that there was
another person in the room besides the engineer. This second
person rose to meet him, while MacDougall remained in his seat,
and as he came out into the clearer light of the room Philip could
scarce believe his eyes.
It was Gregson!
"I am sorry that I came in just at this time, Phil," he greeted,
in a low voice.
Philip stared, still incredulous. He had never seen Gregson as he
looked now. The artist advanced no farther. He did not hold out
his hand. There was none of the joy of meeting in his face. His
eyes shifted to the door that led into the death-chamber, and they
were filled with the gloom of a condemned man. With a low word
Philip held out his hand to meet his old comrade's. Gregson drew
back.
"No--not now," he said. "Wait--until you have heard me."
Something in his cold, passionless voice stopped Philip. He saw
Gregson glance toward MacDougall, and understood what he meant.
Going to the engineer, he placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke
so that only he could hear.
"She is in there, Mac--with Pierre. She wanted to be alone with
him for a few minutes. Will you wait for her--outside--at the
door, and take her over to Cassidy's wife? Tell her that I will
come to her in a little while.
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