With a dark stare in his face, she obeys. An odd approach, surely, for a master to make to his own house!

"No one up in the house but you?" he whispers, as soon as the window is open.

"Not one!"

"Don't say a word, only listen: come, softly, round to the hall-door, and let me in; and light those candles there, and bring them with you to the hall. Don't let a creature know I have been here, and make no noise for your life!"

The old woman nodded with the same little frown; and he, pointing toward the hall door, walks away silently in that direction.

"What makes you look so white and dowley?" mutters the old woman, as she secures the window, and bars the shutters again.

"Good creature!" whispers Sir Richard, as he enters the hall, and places his hand kindly on her shoulder, and with a very dark look; "you have always been true to me, Martha, and I depend on your good sense; not a word of my having been here to any one--not to Miss Alice! I have to search for papers. I shall be here but an hour or so. Don't lock or bar the door, mind, and get to your bed! Don't come up this way again--good-night!"

"Won't you have some supper?"

"No, thanks."

"A gla.s.s of sherry and a bit o' something?"

"Nothing."

And he places his hand on her shoulder gently, and looks toward the corridor that led to her room; then taking up one of the candles she had left alight on the table in the hall, he says,--

"I'll give you a light," and he repeats, with a wondrous heavy sigh, "Good-night, dear old Martha."

"G.o.d bless ye, Master d.i.c.k. Ye must chirp up a bit, mind," she says very kindly, with an earnest look in her face. "I'm getting to rest--ye needn't fear me walkin' about to trouble ye. But ye must be careful to shut the hall-door close. I agree, as it is a thing to be done; but ye must also knock at my bed-room window when ye've gane out, for I must get up, and lock the door, and make a' safe; and don't ye forget, Master Richard, what I tell ye."

He held the candle at the end of the corridor, down which the wiry old woman went quickly; and when he returned to the hall, and set the candle down again, he felt faint. In his ears are ever the terrible words: "Mind, _I_ take command of the house, _I_ dispose of and appoint the servants; I don't appear, you do all ostensibly--but from garret to cellar, I'm _master_. I'll look it over, and tell you what is to be done."

Sir Richard roused himself, and having listened at the staircase, he very softly opened the hall-door. The spire of the old church showed h.o.a.r in the moonlight. At the left, from under a deep shadow of elms, comes silently a tall figure, and softly ascends the hall-door steps.

The door is closed gently.

Alice sitting at her dressing-table, half an hour later, thought she heard steps--lowered her book, and listened. But no sound followed.

Again the same light foot-falls disturbed her--and again, she was growing nervous. Once more she heard them, very stealthily, and now on the same floor on which her room was. She stands up breathless. There is no noise now. She was thinking of waking her maid, but she remembered that she and Louisa Diaper had in a like alarm, discovered old Martha, only two or three nights before, poking about the china-closet, dusting and counting, at one o'clock in the morning, and had then exacted a promise that she would visit that repository no more, except at seasonable hours. But old Martha was so pig-headed, and would take it for granted that she was fast asleep, and would rather fidget through the house and poke up everything at that hour than at any other.

Quite persuaded of this, Alice takes her candle, determined to scold that troublesome old thing, against whom she is fired with the irritation that attends on a causeless fright. She walks along the gallery quickly, in slippers, flowing dressing-gown and hair, with her candle in her hand, to the head of the stairs, through the great window of which the moonlight streams brightly. Through the keyhole of the door at the opposite side, a ray of candlelight is visible, and from this room opens the china-closet, which is no doubt the point of attraction for the troublesome visitant. Holding the candle high in her left hand, Alice opens the door.

What she sees is this--a pair of candles burning on a small table, on which, with a pencil, Mr. Longcluse is drawing, it seems, with care, a diagram; at the same moment he raises his eyes, and Richard Arden, who is standing with one hand placed on the table over which he is leaning a little, looks quickly round, and rising walks straight to the door, interposing between her and Longcluse.

"Oh, Alice? You didn't expect me: I'm very busy, looking for--looking over papers. Don't mind."

He had placed his hands gently on her shoulders, and she receded as he advanced.

"Oh! it don't matter. I thought--I thought--I did not know."

She was smiling her best. She was horrified. He looked like a ghost.

Alice was gazing piteously in his face, and with a little laugh, she began to cry convulsively.

"What is the matter with the little fool! There, there--don't, don't--nonsense!"

With an effort she recovered herself.

"Only a little startled, d.i.c.k; I did not think you were there--good-night."

And she hastened back to her chamber, and locked the door; and running into her maid's room, sat down on the side of her bed, and wept hysterically. To the imploring inquiries of her maid, she repeated only the words, "I am frightened," and left her in a startled perplexity.

She knew that Longcluse had seen her, and he, that she had seen him.

Their eyes had met. He saw with a bleak rage the contracting look of horror, so nearly hatred, that she fixed on him for a breathless moment.

There was a tremor of fury at his heart, as if it could have sprung at her, from his breast, at her throat, and murdered her; and--she looked so beautiful! He gazed with an idolatrous admiration. Tears were welling to his eyes, and yet he would have laughed to see her weltering on the floor. A madman for some tremendous seconds!

CHAPTER LXXII.

MEASURES.

About twelve o'clock next day Richard Arden showed himself at Mortlake.

It was a beautiful autumnal day, and the mellow sun fell upon a foliage that was fading into russet and yellow. Alice was looking out from the open window, on the n.o.ble old timber whose wide-spread boughs and thinning leaves caught the sunbeams pleasantly. She had heard her brother and his companion go down the stairs, and saw them, from the window, walk quickly down the avenue, till the trees hid them from view.

She thought that some of the servants were up, and that the door was secured on their departure; and the effect of the shock she had received gradually subsiding, she looked to her next interview with her brother for an explanation of the occurrence which had so startled her.

That interview was approaching; the cab drove up to the steps, and her brother got out. Anxiously she looked, but no one followed him, and the driver shut the cab-door. Sir Richard kissed his hand to her, as she stood in the window.

From the hall the house opens to the right and left, in two suites of rooms. The room in which Alice stood was called the sage-room, from its being hung in sage-green leather, stamped in gold. It is a small room to the left, and would answer very prettily for a card party or a _tete-a-tete_. Alice had her work, her books, and her music there; she liked it because the room was small and cheery.

The door opened, and her brother comes in.

"Good d.i.c.k, to come so early! welcome, darling," she said, putting her arms about his neck, as he stooped and kissed her, smiling.

He looked very ill, and his smile was painful.

"That was an odd little visit I paid last night," said he, with his dark eyes fixed on her, inquiringly she thought--"very late--quite unexpected. You are quite well to-day?--you look flourishing."

"I wish I could say as much for you, d.i.c.k; I'm afraid you are tiring yourself to death."

"I had some one with me last night," said Sir Richard, with his eye still upon her; "I--I don't know whether you perceived that."

Alice looked away, and then said carelessly, but very gravely--

"I did--I saw Mr. Longcluse. I could not believe my eyes, d.i.c.k. You must promise me one thing."

"What is that?"

"That he sha'n't come into this house any more--while I am here, I mean."

"That is easily promised," said he.