Frobisher said in a low voice:

"It's too risky. In these cases --"

He stopped.

Poirot said: "Hugh is devoted to

her... ."

Chandler cried: "That's just why I Damn it all, man, everything's topsyturvy where a madman's concerned. Hugh

knows that himself. Diana mustn't come

here.5'

"As to that," said Poirot, "Diana must

decide for herself."

He went out of the library. Diana was

waiting outside in the car. She called out,

"We'll get what we want for the night

and be back in time for dinner."

As they drove down the long drive,

Poirot repeated to her the conversation

he had just held with the Admiral and

Colonel Frobisher. She laughed scornfully.

"Do they think Hugh would hurt me ?"

By way of reply, Poirot asked her if she

would mind stopping at the chemist's in

the village. He had forgotten, he said, to pack a toothbrush. 278

The chemist's shop was in the middle of

the peaceful village street. Diana waited

outside in the car. It struck her that

Hercule Poirot was a long time choosing a

toothbrush....

VI

In the big bedroom with the heavy

Elizabethan, oak furniture, Hercule Poirot

sat and waited. There was nothing to

do but wait. All his arrangements were

made.

It was towards early morning that the

summons came.

At the sound of footsteps outside, Poirot

drew back the bolt and opened the door.

There were two men in the passage outside

— two middle-aged men who looked older

than their years. The Admiral was stemfaced

and grim. Colonel Frobisher

twitched and trembled.

Chandler said simply:

"Will you come with us, M. Poirot ?"

There was a huddled figure lying outside

Diana Maberly's bedroom door. The light

fell on a rumpled, tawny head. Hugh

Chandler lay there breathing stertorously.

He was in his dressing-gown and slippers.

LOH19 279

In his right hand was a sharply-curved, shining knife. Not all of it was shining - here and there it was obscured by red glistening patches.

Hercule Poirot exclaimed softly:

"Mon Dieu /"

Frobisher said sharply:

"She's all right. He hasn't touched her." He raised his voice and called: "Diana!

It's us! Let us in!"

Poirot heard the Admiral groan and

mutter under his breath:

"My boy. My poor boy."

There was a sound of bolts being drawn.

The door opened and Diana stood there.

Her face was dead white.

She faltered out:

^Whafs happened? There was someone

--trying to get in --I heard them --feeling

the door --the handle --scratching

on the panels--Oh! it was awful . . . like

an animal. ..."

Frobisher said sharply:

"Thank God your door was locked!"

"M. Poirot told me to lock it."

Poirot said:

"Lift him up and bring him inside."

The two men stooped and raised the

280

unconscious man. Diana caught her breath

with a little gasp as they passed her.

"Hugh ? Is it Hugh ? What's that --on

his hands ?"

Hugh Chandler's hands were sticky and

wet with a brownish, red stain.