“She will be raised, of course,” said he. “It is only a question of time before you recover your property.”
“O, no, indeed!” cried the young in an agonized voice. “It is a question of much more—of life or death for us. Time is our worst enemy. It is that very delay and publicity which will give our persecutor the clue to our whereabouts for which he will be seeking.”
“In what way?” asked Gilead.
“This happened,” answered the visitor, “three days ago. At any moment now I may expect my father. His flight, you may be sure, will not be long unsuspected by Mr Dark, who will see in this our double desertion a ruse to outwit him. He will follow instantly, with nose and ears open to every scent and rumour. If we claim our property, he will be down on us in a moment; if we do not, we are ruined.”
Gilead considered a little.
“Well, madam,” he said presently, “you have, if I am not mistaken, a suggestion to make?”
The young lady advanced an impulsive step towards him, with clasped hands and burning eyes.
“If only,” she said—“O! if only I could recover the jewels before my father’s arrival, and so forestall our persecutor! It was for that purpose I advertised; it is to implore that assistance that I now stand before you, a very helpless, very unhappy girl.”
Gilead, never deaf to an emotional appeal, glanced across at Miss Halifax.
She sat, with a pen between her red lips, arranging some typescript in a very calm and business-like way. She ignored his look, though she was quite conscious of it.