Читать книгу Hidden Foes; Or, A Fatal Miscalculation онлайн

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Quietly lifting the latch, Donovan opened the gate and entered with quickened steps. He did not follow the gravel walk, which led toward an end door in a wing of the hospital some fifty yards away. Instead, he strode straight across the broad lawn, through the deeper gloom under the trees, until he came to one, the drooping branches of which formed a sort of arbor in a secluded part of the extensive estate.

There was an iron seat under it, and the policeman flashed his light in that direction. It fell upon a motionless figure in a huddled position on one end of the seat—the figure of a young woman.

“Another, by thunder, as sure as I’m a foot high,” Donovan gasped audibly. “In spite of my vigilance, too, and in the same place and condition as the others. Sure, this beats me.”

Donovan drew nearer and bent over the motionless girl. She was about nineteen, with a slender, neatly clad figure, a dark skirt and Eton jacket. Her head was bowed forward, and her hat was somewhat awry. She was of dark complexion, but the ghastly pallor of her cheeks caused the policeman to catch his breath. He bowed over her, listening, and presently could hear the faint breathing of the unconscious girl.