"Dear little things," Elza said. "They are my favourite flowers. I like them so much better than all those wonderful new roses that get the prizes at the horticultural shows."
She stooped to inhale the fragrance of the roses, and while she was stooping a faint, very distant whirring sound became audible, which grew in volume every moment. Just for the space of one second Elza did not move; she remained just as she was, stooping, and with her face buried in the roses. Then she straightened out her fine figure and grasped Rosemary's hand.
"The motor," she said huskily. "Let us go."
The end of the perennial border where they were was nearly a quarter of a mile away from the house, and then there was the house to get round, the courtyard to cross——The whirring grew louder every moment, then slower, and then it ceased. The car had come to a halt, but not in front of the gates which were still closed. Rosemary and Elza were in the courtyard with Mufti and Karo jumping about them and getting in the way. The motor was not in sight.
"Down, Mufti! Karo, down!" Elza kept repeating mechanically.
She was rather breathless after that race across the garden. Rosemary ran to the lodge to call Feri, the night-watchman, who had the keys of the gate. He had heard the dogs barking and the voice of the gracious countess, so he was on the doorstep wondering what had brought the ladies out at this hour of the morning.
"Quick, Feri, open the gates!" Rosemary called to him.
It took Feri a few moments to get the keys to unlock the gates. An eternity.
From the direction of the village there had come a loud cry, followed after a few seconds by shouts and the sound of men running. Running and shouting, and now and then another shrill cry.
"Run ahead quickly, Feri," Rosemary whispered to the watchman. "Quickly, see what it is."