"Now we're through with nonsense; I want the truth!"
Billy shivered.
"See face--that's all," he brought out at last.
"Whose face?"
Again it was evident that Billy knew or thought he knew more than
he was willing to tell.
"Don't know," he said with obvious untruth, looking down at the
floor.
"Never mind, Billy," cut in Miss Cornelia. To her mind questioning
Billy was wasting time. She looked at the Unknown.
"Solve the mystery of this man and we may get at the facts," she
said in accents of conviction.
As Bailey turned toward her questioningly, Billy attempted to steal
silently out of the door, apparently preferring any fears that might
lurk in the darkness of the corridor to a further grilling on the
subject of whom or what he had seen on the alcove stairs. But
Bailey caught the movement out of the tail of his eye.
"You stay here," he commanded. Billy stood frozen. Beresford
raised the candle so that it cast its light full in the Unknown's
face.
"This chap claims to have lost his memory," he said dubiously. "I
suppose a blow on the head might do that, I don't know."
"I wish somebody would knock me on the head! I'd like to forget a
few things!" moaned Lizzie, but the interruption went unregarded.
"Don't you even know your name?" queried Miss Cornelia of the Unknown.
The Unknown shook his head with a slow, laborious gesture.
"Not--yet."
"Or where you came from?"
Once more the battered head made its movement of negation.
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