He did not answer. He was looking down the dark stairway. He rose and leaped on the parapet.
“It is time to make the attempt. People are coming up the stairs.”
In five seconds we were lying side by side.
“Whatever happens, you must not betray yourself. If you do, remember, you betray me, and you promised to stand by me, no matter what happened.”
I nodded; then, peering over, I saw my mask lying on the bench where I had thrown it down. I pointed it out to St. Hilary.
“Shall I risk jumping down for it?”
“No, no. There is no logical clue between a mask on a bench and two gentlemen playing eavesdroppers a few feet above.”
There was a rustle of silk; a faint sigh of a woman catching her breath; then a ripple of light laughter.
“We are not the first, duke, to enjoy this wonderful view,” cried a clear voice.
I leaned recklessly over. Jacqueline was holding my mask toward Duke da Sestos. And they were alone.