An unusual sound disturbed the even tenor of her meditations. She lifted her head with a start. Her little gold clock showed the hour to be after one. Nearly two hours she had sat here thinking.
Again the sound was repeated. A sharp tap on the window-pane. Virginia went to the window and opened it. Below on the pathway was a tall figure which even as she looked stooped for another handful of gravel.
For a moment Virginia’s heart beat faster—then she recognized the massive strength and square-cut outline of the Herzoslovakian, Boris.
“Yes,” she said in a low tone. “What is it?”
At the moment it did not strike her as strange that Boris should be throwing gravel at her window at this hour of the night.
“What is it?” she repeated impatiently.
“I come from the Master,” said Boris in a low tone which nevertheless carried perfectly. “He has sent for you.”
He made the statement in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone.
“Sent for me?”
“Yes, I am to bring you to him. There is a note. I will throw it up to you.”