“Diana, please,” I answered, in a flutter.
“Diana—Please!” he protested crossly. “Fah! Diana Please don’t please”—and he subsided into himself again.
But he had christened me. I had gone lacking nothing but a name of my own hitherto and here was one given me, apt and pat. From that moment I became Diana Please.
The very sense of its possession made me forward.
“Aren’t we safe now?” I said, “or are you going to stop here all night?”
He looked up at me hurriedly, and, scowling, motioned me away from him. Then, without a word, he snatched his book, rose, and striding to the trap-door, began to descend. I followed him closely. The way led by a flight of steps in the walls to a cupboard under the main stairs where they rose from the hall. We emerged from darkness into a wide echoing twilight. For the first time the thought of my master secreted somewhere, watchful and waiting for me, sent my spirits reeling. I slunk against the wall.
“Where was it?” demanded my companion brusquely.
I stared at him. He stamped his foot, so that the noise resounded horribly through the empty house.
“The steward!” he cried. “Where did they leave him?”
“By the door,” I whispered, trembling—“out there.”