ned round--and
looked slowly along the two walls of the passage, from end to
end--shuddered--shook her head--and went slowly on down the stairs.

"What were you looking for?" he whispered after her.

She neither answered, nor looked back--she went her way into the
kitchen.

He waited a minute, and then followed her.

On his way out to the garden, he went into the dining-room. The moon had
risen; and the window-shutters were not closed. It was easy to find the
brandy and the jug of water on the table. He mixed the two, and emptied
the tumbler at a draught. "My head's queer," he whispered to himself.
He passed his handkerchief over his face. "How infernally hot it is
to-night!" He made for the door. It was open, and plainly visible--and
yet, he failed to find his way to it. Twice, he found himself trying to
walk through the wall, on either side. The third time, he got out, and
reached the garden. A strange sensation possessed him, as he walked
round and round. He had not drunk enough, or nearly enough, to
intoxicate him. His mind, in a dull way, felt the same as usual; but his
body was like the body of a drunken man.

The night advanced; the clock of Putney Church struck ten.

Anne appeared again from the drawing room, with her bedroom candle in
her hand.

"Put out the lights," she said to Hester, at the kitchen door; "I am
going up stairs."

She entered her room. The insupportable sense of weariness, after the
sleepless night that she had passed, weighed more heavily on her than
ever. She locked her door, but forbore, on this occasion, to fasten the
bolts. The dread of danger was no longer present to her mind; and there
was this positive objection to losing the bolts, that the unfastening of
them would increase the difficulty of leaving the room noiselessly
later in the night. She loosened her dress, and lifted her hair from her
temples--and paced to and fro in the room wearily, thinking. Geoffrey's
habits were irregular; Hester seldom went to bed early.

Two hours at least--more probably three--must pass, before it would
be safe to communicate with Sir Patrick by means of the signal in the
window. Her strength was fast failing her. If she persisted, for the
next three hours, in denying herself the repose which she sorely
needed, the chances were that her nerves might fail her, through sheer
exhaustion, when the time came for facing the risk and making the effort
to escape. Sleep was falling on her even now--a