The old lady turned quickly upon me, "Since you entered?" she cried in wonderment and consternation. "Since you left, you mean. Did you not leave this room a few minutes ago? What means this? How found you entrance without the key?"
"I did not leave this room, Aunt Dorothy; you see I am here," I responded.
"Who did leave? Your wraith? Some one—Dorothy!" screamed the old lady in terror. "That girl!!—Holy Virgin! where is she?"
Lady Crawford hastened to Dorothy's room and returned to me in great agitation.
"Were you in the plot?" she demanded angrily.
"No more than were you, Lady Crawford," I replied, telling the exact truth. If I were accessory to Dorothy's crime, it was only as a witness and Aunt Dorothy had seen as much as I.
I continued: "Dorothy left Lady Madge and me at the window, saying she wished to make a change in her garments. I was watching the sunset and talking with Lady Madge."
Lady Crawford, being full of concern about the main event,—Dorothy's escape,—was easily satisfied that I was not accessory before the fact.
"What shall I do, Malcolm? What shall I do? Help me, quickly. My brother will return in the morning—perhaps he will return to-night—and he will not believe that I have not intentionally permitted Dorothy to leave the Hall. I have of late said so much to him on behalf of the girl that he suspects me already of being in sympathy with her. He will not believe me when I tell him that I have been duped. The ungrateful, selfish girl! How could she so unkindly return my affection!"
The old lady began to weep.