The Peril at End House by Agatha Christie Page A

For God's sake, tell me. Is it-is it-Nick?'
    The anguish in his tone was dreadful to hear. I suddenly realized that Poirot and the doctor between them completely blotted out Nick from his sight.
    Before anyone had time to answer, he repeated his question.
    'Tell me-it can't be true-Nick isn't dead?'
    'No, mon ami,' said Poirot, gently. 'She is alive.'
    And he drew back so that Challenger could see the little figure on the sofa.
    For a moment or two Challenger stared at her incredulously. Then, staggering a little, like a drunken man, he muttered: 'Nick-Nick.'
    And suddenly dropping on his knees beside the sofa and hiding his head in his hands, he cried in a muffled voice: 'Nick-my darling-I thought that you were dead.'
    Nick tried to sit up.
    'It's all right, George. Don't be an idiot. I'm quite safe.'
    He raised his head and looked round wildly.
    'But somebody's dead? The policeman said so.'
    'Yes,' said Nick. 'Maggie. Poor old Maggie. Oh!-'
    A spasm twisted her face. The doctor and Poirot came forward. Graham helped her to her feet. He and Poirot, one on each side, helped her from the room.
    'The sooner you get to your bed the better,' remarked the doctor. 'I'll take you along at once in my car. I've asked Mrs Rice to pack a few things ready for you to take.'
    They disappeared through the door. Challenger caught my arm. 'I don't understand. Where are they taking her?' I explained.
    'Oh! I see. Now, then, Hastings, for God's sake give me the hang of this thing. What a ghastly tragedy! That poor girl.'
    'Come and have a drink,' I said. 'You're all to pieces.'
    'I don't mind if I do.'
    We adjourned to the dining-room.
    'You see,' he explained, as he put away a stiff whisky and soda, 'I thought it was Nick.'
    There was very little doubt as to the feelings of Commander George Challenger. A more transparent lover never lived.

The Peril at End House

Chapter 9 – A. to J.
    I doubt if I shall ever forget the night that followed. Poirot was a prey to such an agony of self-reproach that I was really alarmed. Ceaselessly he strode up and down the room heaping anathemas on his own head and deaf to my well-meant remonstrances.
    'What it is to have too good an opinion of oneself. I am punished-yes, I am punished. I, Hercule Poirot. I was too sure of myself.'
    'No, no,' I interpolated.
    'But who would imagine-who could imagine-such unparalleled audacity? I had taken, as I thought, all possible precautions. I had warned the murderer-'
    'Warned the murderer?'
    'Mais oui. I had drawn attention to myself. I had let him see that I suspected-someone. I had made it, or so I thought, too dangerous for him to dare to repeat his attempts at murder. I had drawn a cordon round Mademoiselle. And he slips through it! Boldly-under our very eyes almost, he slips through it! In spite of us all-of everyone being on the alert, he achieves his object.'
    'Only he doesn't,' I reminded him.
    'That is the chance only! From my point of view, it is the same. A human life has been taken, Hastings-whose life is non-essential.'
    'Of course,' I said. 'I didn't mean that.'
    'But on the other hand, what you say is true. And that makes it worse-ten times worse. For the murderer is still as far as ever from achieving his object. Do you understand, my friend? The position is changed-for the worse. It may mean that not one life-but two-will be sacrificed.'
    'Not while you're about,' I said stoutly.
    He stopped and wrung my hand.
    'Merci, mon ami! Merci! You still have confidence in the old one-you still have the faith. You put new courage into me. Hercule Poirot will not fail again. No second life shall be taken. I will rectify my error-for, see you, there must have been an error! Somewhere there has been a lack of order and method in my usually so well arranged ideas. I will start again. Yes, I will start at the beginning. And this time-I will not fail.'
    'You really think then,' I said, 'that Nick Buckley's life is still in danger?' 'My friend, for what other reason did