On the night of this last event, before she retired to bed, Hilda
learned more. Leaving Mrs. Hart's room, she called at the
housekeeper's chambers to see if the missing woman might be there.
The housekeeper informed her that she had left at an early hour that
morning, without saying a word to any one, and that she herself had
taken it for granted that her ladyship knew all about it. Hilda heard
this without any comment; and then walked thoughtfully to her own
room.

She certainly had enough care on her mind to occupy all her thoughts.
The declaration of Gualtier was of itself an ill-omened event, and
she no longer had that trust in his fidelity which she once had, even
though he now might work in the hope of a reward. It seemed to her
that with the loss of her old ascendency over him she would lose
altogether his devotion; nor could the remembrance of his former
services banish that deep distrust of him which, along with her
bitter resentment of his rebellion, had arisen in her mind. The
affair of Mrs. Hart seemed worse yet. Her sudden appearance, her
sharp questionings, her cold incredulity, terminated at last by her
prompt flight, were all circumstances which filled her with the most
gloomy forebodings. Her troubles seemed now to increase every day,
each one coming with startling suddenness, and each one being of that
sort against which no precautions had been taken, or even thought of.

She passed an anxious day and a sleepless night. On the following
morning a letter was brought to her. It had a foreign post-mark, and
the address showed the handwriting of Gualtier. This at once brought
back the old feelings about Lord Chetwynde, and she tore it open with
feverish impatience, eager to know what the contents might be, yet
half fearful of their import. It was written in that tone of respect
which Gualtier had never lost but once, and which he had now resumed.
He informed her that on leaving Chetwynde he had gone at once up to
London, and found that Lord Chetwynde was stopping at the same hotel
where he had put up last. He formed a bold design, which he put in
execution, trusting to the fact that Lord Chetwynde had never seen
him more than twice at the Castle, and on both occasions had seemed
not even to have looked at him. He therefore got himself up very
carefully in a foreign fashion, and, as he spoke French perfectly, he
went to Lord Chetwynde and offered himself as a valet or courier. It
happened that Lord Chet