She stood despairing. Only one way was now left, and that lay through the hall-door itself.

Suddenly, as she stood there, she heard footsteps. A figure came down the long hall straight toward her. There was not the slightest chance of concealment here. There were no pillars behind which she might crouch.

She must stand, then, and take the consequences. Or, rather, would it not be better to walk forward and meet this new-comer? Yes; that would be best. She determined to do so.

So, with a quiet, slow step she walked back through the long corridor.

About half-way she met the other. He stopped and started back.

"Miss Potts!" he exclaimed, in surprise.

It was the voice of Philips.

"Ah, Philips," said she, quietly, "I am walking about for exercise and amus.e.m.e.nt. I can not sleep. Don't be startled. It's only me."

Philips stood like one paralyzed.

"Don't be cast down," he said at last, in a trembling voice. "You have friends, powerful friends. They will save you."

"What do you mean?" asked Beatrice, in wonder.

"Never mind," said Philips, mysteriously. "It will be all right. I dare not tell. But cheer up."

"What do you mean by friends?"

"You have friends who are more powerful than your enemies, that's all,"

said Philips, hurriedly. "Cheer up."

Beatrice wondered. A vague thought of Brandon came over her mind, but she dismissed it at once. Yet the thought gave her a delicious joy, and at once dispelled the extreme agitation which had thus far disturbed her. Could Philips be connected with _him_? Was he in reality considerate about her while shaping the course of his gloomy vengeance?

These were the thoughts which flashed across her mind as she stood.

"I don't understand," said she, at last; "but I hope it may be as you say. G.o.d knows, I need friends!"

She walked away, and Philips also went onward. She walked slowly, until at last his steps died out in the distance. Then a door banged.

Evidently she had nothing to fear from him. At last she reached the main hall, and stopped for a moment. The lights from the dining-room were still flashing out through the door. The grand entrance lay before her. There was the door of the hall, the only way of escape that now remained. Dare she try it?

She deliberated long. Two alternatives lay before her--to go back to her own room, or to try to pa.s.s that door. To go back was as repulsive as death, in fact more so. If the choice had been placed full before her then, to die on the spot or to go back to her room, she would have deliberately chosen death. The thought of returning, therefore, was the last upon which she could dwell, and that of going forward was the only one left. To this she gave her attention.

At last she made up her mind, and advanced cautiously, close by the wall, toward the hall-door. After a time she reached the door of the dining-room. Could she venture to pa.s.s it, and how? She paused. She listened. There were low voices in the room. Then they were still awake, still able to detect her if she pa.s.sed the door.

She looked all around. The hall was wide. On the opposite side the wall was but feebly lighted. The hall lights had been put out, and those which shone from the room extended forward but a short distance. It was just possible therefore to escape observation by crossing the doorway along the wall that was most distant from it.

Yet before she tried this she ventured to put forward her head so as to peep into the room. She stooped low and looked cautiously and slowly.

The three were there at the farthest end of the room. Bottles and gla.s.ses stood before them, and they were conversing in low tones. Those tones, however, were not so low but that they reached her ears. They were speaking about _her_.

"How could she have found it out?" said Clark.

"Mrs. Compton only knows _one thing_," said Potts, "and that is _the secret about her_. She knows nothing more. How could she?"

"Then how could that cursed girl have found out about the Thug business?" exclaimed John.

There was no reply.

"She's a deep one," said John, "d--d deep--deeper than I ever thought.

I always said she was plucky--cursed plucky--but now I see she's deep too--and I begin to have my doubts about the way she ought to be took down."

"I never could make her out," said Potts. "And now I don't even begin to understand how she could know that which only we have known. Do you think, Clark, that the devil could have told her of it?"

"Yes," said Clark. "n.o.body but the devil could have told her that, and my belief is that she's the devil himself. She's the only person I ever felt afraid of. D--n it, I can't look her in the face."

Beatrice retreated and pa.s.sed across to the opposite wall. She did not wish to see or hear more. She glided by. She was not noticed. She heard John's voice--sharp and clear--

"We'll have to begin to-morrow and take her down--that's a fact." This was followed by silence.

Beatrice reached the door. She turned the k.n.o.b. Oh, joy! it was not locked. It opened.

Noiselessly she pa.s.sed through; noiselessly she shut it behind her. She was outside. She was free.

The moon shone brightly. It illumined the lawn in front and the tops of the clumps of trees whose dark foliage rose before her. She saw all this; yet, in her eagerness to escape, she saw nothing more, but sped away swiftly down the steps, across the lawn, and under the shade of the trees.

Which way should she go? There was the main avenue which led in a winding direction toward the gate and the porter's lodge. There was also another path which the servants generally took. This led to the gate also. Beatrice thought that by going down this path she might come near the gate and then turn off to the wall and try and climb over.

A few moments of thought were sufficient for her decision. She took the path and went hurriedly along, keeping on the side where the shadow was thickest.

She walked swiftly, until at length she came to a place where the path ended. It was close by the porter's lodge. Here she paused to consider.

Late as it was there were lights in the lodge and voices at the door.

Some one was talking with the porter. Suddenly the voices ceased and a man came walking toward the place where she stood.

To dart into the thick trees where the shadow lay deepest was the work of a moment. She stood and watched. But the underbrush was dense, and the crackling which she made attracted the man's attention. He stopped for a moment, and then rushed straight toward the place where she was.

Beatrice gave herself up for lost. She rushed on wildly, not knowing where she went. Behind her was the sound of her pursuer. He followed resolutely and relentlessly. There was no refuge for her but continued flight.

Onward she sped, and still onward, through the dense underbrush, which at every step gave notice of the direction which she had taken. Perhaps if she had been wiser she would have plunged into some thick growth of trees into the midst of absolute darkness and there remained still. As it was she did not think of this. Escape was her only thought, and the only way to this seemed to be by flight.

So she fled; and after her came her remorseless, her unpitying pursuer, fear lent wings to her feet. She fled on through the underbrush that crackled as she pa.s.sed and gave notice of her track through the dark, dense groves; yet still amidst darkness and gloom her pursuer followed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ONWARD SHE SPED, AND STILL ONWARD, THROUGH THE DENSE UNDERBRUSH."]

At last, through utter weakness and weariness, she sank down. Despair came over her. She could do no more.

The pursuer came up. So dense was the gloom in that thick grove that for some time he could not find her. Beatrice heard the crackling of the underbrush all around. He was searching for her.

She crouched down low and scarcely dared to breathe. She took refuge in the deep darkness, and determined to wait till her pursuer might give up his search. At last all was still.

Beatrice thought that he had gone. Yet in her fear she waited for what seemed to her an interminable period. At last she ventured to make a movement. Slowly and cautiously she rose to her feet and advanced. She did not know what direction to take; but she walked on, not caring where she went so long as she could escape pursuit.

Scarcely had she taken twenty steps when she heard a noise. Some one was moving. She stood still, breathless. Then she thought she had been mistaken. After waiting a long time she went on as before. She walked faster. The noise came again. It was close by. She stood still for many minutes.