It came. Tender arms stole about her neck, loving lips were pressed to hers. In an agony of joy she clasped the girl to her bosom, and wept over her. For only a few moments did she allow herself the bliss of this reunion. She looked, affrighted, to a clock on the mantelpiece.
"At what time did that man say he would be here to meet us?" she asked in a hurried whisper.
"At eleven o'clock," was the whispered reply.
"It wants but five minutes to the hour. We must go, child; we must fly from this place. No breath of suspicion must attach itself to my child's good name. Come--quickly, quickly!"
The Duchess allowed Mrs. Lenoir to put on her hat and cloak, and before the hour struck they were in the street, hastening through the snow.
Whither? She knew not. But fate was directing her steps.
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
They did not escape unobserved, and within a short time of their departure from the hotel, were being tracked by friend and foe. The ostler attached to the hotel saw the woman stealing away, and noted the direction they took; and when Ned Chester drove to the "Empire" and heard with dismay of the flight, the ostler turned an honest penny by directing him on their road. He turned more than one honest penny on this--to him--fortunate night. Richards, who had made himself fully acquainted with Ned's movements, arrived at the hotel, in company with Arthur Temple, a few minutes after the runaway thief left it, and had no difficulty in obtaining the information he required.
"Two birds with one stone, sir," he said to Arthur; "we shall catch the thief and save the girl."
"We may be too late if we go afoot," said Arthur; "every moment is precious. Now, my man," to the ostler, "your fastest horse and your lightest trap. A guinea for yourself if they are ready without delay; another guinea if we overtake the persons we are after."