Part 13 (1/2)

”Eunice Davenant! Eunice Davenant! Curse her!” he groaned out.

But even as the words left his lips a sound rose, the unmistakable tap--tap of something--some finger striking the window-pane.

Biting his bloodless lips to prevent himself calling out in his ecstasy of fear, he thrust the will into his pocket, caught up the candle, swept the curtains aside, and started back.

The light fell full upon the face of a young girl.

CHAPTER VIII.

The face at the window was that of a young girl of about two-and-twenty.

It would be hard to say whether Stephen Davenant was pleased or annoyed by this apparition. That he was surprised there could be no doubt, for he almost dropped the candle in his astonishment, and fumbled at the lock of the window for some moments before he could open it.

”Laura!” he exclaimed, ”can it be you? Great Heavens! Impossible!”

With a little gasp of relief and suppressed excitement, the girl stepped into the room, and leaned upon his arm, panting with a commingling of weariness and fear.

”My dear Laura,” he said, still holding the candle, ”how did you come here? Why----”

”Oh, Stephen, is it really you? I was afraid that I had made some mistake--that I had come all this way----”

”You do not mean to say you have come all the way from London alone--alone!”

”Yes, I have come all the way from London. Do not be angry with me, Stephen. I--I could not wait any longer. It seemed so long! Why did you leave me without a word? I did not know whether you were alive or dead.

Three weeks--think, three weeks! How could you do it?”

”Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ Do not speak so loud,” he whispered. ”Did anyone see you come in?”

”No one. I have been waiting in the shrubs for--oh, hours! I saw the visitors go away--an old gentleman and a young one--and I saw your shadow behind the blind,” and she pointed to the window. ”I have been outside waiting, and dreading to knock in case you should not be alone.”

”You--you saw my shadow?” he said, with an uneasy smile. ”Did you see--I mean, what was I doing?”

”I did not see distinctly; I was listening for voices. Oh, Stephen, I am so weary!”

He drew a chair for her, and, motioning her to sit, mixed a gla.s.s of brandy-and-water, and stood over her holding her wrist and looking down at her with an uneasy smile.

”Now,” he said, taking the gla.s.s from her, ”tell me all about it--how you came, and why? Speak in a whisper.”

”You don't need to ask me why, Stephen,” she said, leaning forward and laying her hand upon his arm, her dark eyes fixed on his half-hidden ones. ”Why did you leave me so long without a word?”

”I will tell you directly,” he answered. ”Tell me how you came--alone!

Great Heaven!”

”Alone, yes; why not? I was not afraid. I came by the train.”

”But--but----” he said, with a little flush and a s.h.i.+fting glance, ”how did you know where I was?”