Bessie Dalton, or, more properly speaking, Mrs. Metcalf, looked out in some alarm, for she feared the burglar’s daring escape would be attended with serious consequences.
In this, however, she was mistaken. She observed Charles Peace safe and sound in the grounds at the rear of the house.
He did not speak, but waved an adieu with his hand, and in another minute was lost to sight.
All this had taken place in a much shorter time than we have taken in describing it. Mrs. Metcalf closed the window, fastened it, and then stood irresolute for some little time.
She was aroused from her reverie by the entrance of her maid, Ethel.
“Goodness me, ma’am, how pale and troubled you look,” cried the girl. “Whatever is the matter?”
“What has kept you all this time?” said her mistress, in a tone of anger. “I’ve been waiting anxiously for your return, you giddy, thoughtless girl.”
“If you please, ma’am, it aint my fault. As I was coming home, Mrs. Fowler’s servant stopped me, and said her mistress was so ill that she was going for the doctor.”
“Well, what has that to do with the matter?”
“I just looked in, and saw Mrs. Fowler, who would not let me go till Ann came back.”