Part 63 (1/2)

”Yes, yes,” said Kate; and she hurried across the room.

”If you please, ma'am, breakfast is waiting, and master's compliments, and will you come down?”

”Yes; I'll be down directly,” she cried; and then she pressed her hands to her head and tried to think, but for some moments all was strange and confused, and she wondered why she should have been sleeping there upon the floor, dressed as she was on the previous night, the flowers she had worn still at her breast.

The flowers crushed and bruised!

They acted as the key to the closed mental door, which sprang open, and in one flash of the light which flooded her brain she saw all that had pa.s.sed before she fled there, and then knelt by the bedside, praying for help, and striving to evolve some means of escape, till, utterly exhausted, nature would bear no more, and she fell asleep, to be awakened by the coming of the housekeeper.

And she had told her that she would be down directly. What should she do?

Hurrying to the bell, she rang, and then waited with beating heart for the woman's footsteps, which seemed an age in coming; but at last there was a tap at the door.

”Did you ring, ma'am?”

”Yes; I am unwell I am not coming down.”

”Can I do anything for you, ma'am?”

”No.”

Kate stood thinking for a few moments with her hands to her throbbing brows, for her head was growing confused again, and mental darkness seemed to be closing in; but once more the light came, and she tore the crushed flowers from her breast, put on her bonnet and mantle, and then, hurriedly, her gloves.

She felt that she must get away from that house at once; she could not determine then where she would go; that would come afterwards; she could not even think then of anything but escape.

Her preparations took but a few minutes, and then she went to the door and listened.

All was still in the house as far as she could make out, and timidly unfastening the door, she softly opened it, to look out on the great landing, but started back, for in the darkest corner there was a figure.

Only one of the statues, the one just beyond the great curtain over the archway leading to the little library; and gaining courage and determination, she stepped out, and cautiously looked down into the sombre hall.

Everything was still there, and she could just see that the dining-room door was shut, a sign that Garstang was within, at his solitary breakfast.

Her breath came and went as if she had been running, and she pressed her hand upon her side to try and subdue the heavy throbbing of her heart.

If she could only reach the front door unheard, and steal out!

She drew back, for there was a faint rattling sound, as of a cover upon a dish; then footsteps, and as she drew back she could see the housekeeper cross the hall with a small tray, enter the dining-room, whose door closed behind her, and the next minute come out, empty-handed, re-cross the hall, and disappear. Then her voice rose to where Kate stood, as she called to her daughter.

Garstang must be in the dining-room, at his breakfast; and, desperate now in her dread, Kate drew a deep breath, walked silently over the soft carpet to the head of the stairs, and with her dress rustling lightly, descended, reached the hall, seeing that the door appeared to be in its customary state, and the next moment she would have been there, trying to let herself out, when she was arrested by a faint sound, half-e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, half-sigh, and turning quickly, there, upon the staircase, straining over the bal.u.s.trade to watch her, was Becky, with the sunlight from a stained-gla.s.s window full upon her bandaged face.

Making an angry gesture to her to go back, Kate was in the act of turning once more when a firm hand grasped her wrist, an arm was pa.s.sed about her waist, and with a sudden drag she was drawn into the library and the door closed, Garstang standing there, stern and angry, between her and freedom.

”Where are you going?” he cried.

”Away from here,” she said, meeting his eyes bravely. ”This is no place for me, Mr Garstang. Let me pa.s.s, sir.”

”That is no answer, my child,” he said. ”Where are you going? What are your plans?”

She made no answer, but stepped forward to try and pa.s.s him; but he took her firmly and gently, and forced her to sit down.

”As I expected, you have no idea--you have no plans--you have nowhere to go; and yet in a fit of mad folly you would fly from here, the only place where you could take refuge; and why?”