He didn't know what was fact and what illusion. He couldn't define the danger to Rowena—he dared not believe that whispering. But this time he intended to take a hand in whatever happened—and not as a pawn of the Child of Night Something checked him at the door. Some dim unease drew his eyes back to the high bed, and he was somehow vastly grateful to find it empty. Relieved to see no vacant human husk behind, he shuffled cautiously out into the corridor. It was deserted. He ran silently to the head of the rear stair and paused there when he heard Dr. Bunzel's metallic voice twanging angrily: "Well, Nurse?" "Yes, Doctor," a frightened girl whispered. "What's your excuse?" "I have none, sir." "How the blazes did that patient escape?" "I don't know, sir." "Better find out," Bunzel rapped. "You had her under restraint, in a locked ward, with particular orders to watch her. You knew she had been trying to get away." Scorn oiled his voice. "Did she vanish through the wall?" "I think so, sir." Bunzel uttered an incredulous roar.
