This seemed the most feasible solution of the mystery, considering the state she was in, and he was about to adopt it, when he suddenly caught sight of a little three-cornered note lying on the table which he had placed beside Lady Gwendolyn’s couch.
It was addressed to “Colonel Dacre,” and, tearing it open eagerly, he read the following words, whose expressiveness was only equaled by their laconicism:
“I have found out your secret at last. Adieu.”
CHAPTER III.
A RUSE DE GUERRE.
Colonel Dacre stood quite still for several minutes, holding Lady Gwendolyn’s letter in his hand, and so completely stunned by the misfortune that had come upon him, he could scarcely realize its magnitude as yet. Had Lady Gwendolyn’s accident been a mere pretense and blind? And, if so, had she any excuse for her deception?
These were the two questions he put to himself the moment he could reason. There was only one thing that could have justified such a course of action on Lady Gwendolyn’s part; and if she had had this motive, he was ready to forgive her. He would not judge her, then, until they had met and he had interrogated her, when, even if her tongue labored to deceive him still, he should know the truth by her eyes.
But he could not present himself at the Castle a second time that day, and he might have betrayed Lady Gwendolyn by so doing; as there was just the chance that she had been able to get home without Lord and Lady Teignmouth knowing anything about her little adventure.
He must wait, therefore, until the morrow for a solution of the double mystery, trying as the suspense was.
Before the household was astir he got up, plunged into a cold bath to freshen himself a little, and then went out into the lanes, which he paced up and down until breakfast-time.