ditating the attempt when
suddenly the voices ceased. A door opened and shut. There was dead
silence, except for a footfall overhead, which sounded heavier than
Maxine's. Perhaps it was her maid's.
For a few seconds more I stood still, awaiting developments, but there
was no sound in the next room, and I decided to take my chance before it
should be too late.
I jerked at the window, which yielded with a loud squeak that would
certainly have given away the secret of my presence if there had been
ears to hear. But all was still in the drawing-room adjoining, and I
dropped down on to a flower bed some few feet below. Then I skirted
round to the front of the house, walking stealthily on the soft grass,
and would have made a noiseless dash for the gate had I not seen a
stream of light flowing out through the open front door across the lawn.
I checked myself just in time to draw back without being seen by a woman
and a tall man moving slowly down the path. They were Maxine and, no
doubt, du Laurier. They spoke not a word, but walked with their heads
bent, as if deeply absorbed in searching for something on the ground.
Down to the gate they went, opened it and passed out, only half closing
it behind them, so that I knew they meant presently to come back again.
I should have been thankful to escape, but the chance of meeting them
was too imminent. Accordingly I waited, and it was well I did, for as
they reappeared in three or four minutes they could not have gone far
enough to be out of sight from the gate.
"There's witchcraft in it," Maxine said, as she and her lover passed
within a few yards of me, where I hid behind a little arbour.
Du Laurier's answer was lost to me, but his voice sounded despondent.
Evidently they had mislaid something of importance and had small hope of
finding it again. I could not help being curious, as well as sorry for
Maxine that a further misfortune should have befallen her at such a
time. But the one and only way in which I could help her at the moment
was to get away as soon as possible.
They had left the gate unlocked, and I drew in a long breath of relief
when I was on the other side. I hurried out of the street, lest du
Laurier should, by any chance, follow on quickly: and my first thought
was to go immediately back to my hotel, where Girard might by now have
arrived with news. I was just ready to hail a cab crawling by at a
distance, when I remembered the bit of paper I'd found and
|