Durkin could see the rose-like glow between the phalanges of the fingers shielding the light.

Then, of a sudden, a face grew out of the blackness, a white face shadowed by a plumed hat.

It was a woman's face.

Durkin lowered his revolver, slowly, inch by inch.
It was his wife who stood there in the darkness, not six paces away from him.
"_You_!" he gasped involuntarily, incredibly.

Sheer wonder survived his instinctive recoil.