Hester opened the door at the foot of the stairs and stepped forward into the fragrant atmosphere of the plants and blooms. Anton was close behind her. She could feel his clutching hand. It was very dark within the conservatory and outside the storm was raging fearfully.
Suddenly the organ in the library began to play softly. Hester Storm stood still, listening at first in fear, and then, as the music wove its spell about her, with a kind of strange pleasure. Who could be playing so beautifully and tenderly there in the dark while she was here in such trouble?
A menacing pressure from the hand on her shoulder urged the girl to action. Stepping forward, Hester came to the rose bush in its gilded basket. A quick movement with one hand lifted the cylinder from its pot, then a search with the other brought her fingers in contact with the banknotes. There! She had them! Fifty hundred-pound notes! She had only to count off twenty-five and give them to Anton. That would silence him, but—would he take her word, in the darkness, that the count was straight?
She turned toward the chauffeur and, at this moment, became conscious that there was no longer any pressure on her shoulder. Anton had taken away his hand. She peered through the shadows, but could discern nothing save the vague outlines of a giant palm. She stretched forth her hand, but could feel nothing. The man had gone. At the moment of grasping a fortune he had gone. Why? What had happened?
In her concentration on the rose bush Hester had not seen the dull glow of a cigar burning in sinister watchfulness, there, in the far corner of the conservatory; but Anton had seen it and had drawn back stealthily, his heart pounding. It was Grimes lurking in the darkness, Grimes waiting for his prey.
And now, as Hester wondered at this strange disappearance of her persecutor, the organ stopped and a beautiful voice sounded from the library in a song that none can resist.
Gave me her promise true,
Which ne'er forgot shall he,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie,
I'd lay down and dee.
"Her promise true!" These words went straight to the soul of this poor transgressor. It was like a voice speaking to her, a voice singing to her, a wonderful voice through the shadows of fear carrying its message of steadfastness and hope.
"Her promise true!" What had she promised? To be honest, to be kind. That meant giving back the money—and letting Anton hand her over to Grimes. Anton would do it, too, the cur. Then Grimes would send her up and—she'd never see Rosalie again and—she'd never be able to do anything for Rosalie.
Strange how this thought of Rosalie gave Hester strength to do the thing that would surely separate her from Rosalie, to do the thing that was right, whatever the cost! As she listened, breathless and motionless, reveling in that enthralling melody, it seemed as if she saw her sister's loving eyes, gazing at her tenderly.