"Twelve to two, Maria says. Not so early, either."
Darkham nodded again, and, when the mason was out of sight, turned and went home. As he walked he thought. And ever his thoughts grew clearer, more concentrated.
He put his hand inside his coat, and brought out a letter. It was the "little, diplomatic, friendly line" that Mrs. Greatorex had sent him. He read it through again, although he knew it by heart, and when he had finished it his face was not good to look upon.
For the past few weeks he had lived largely on Mrs. Greatorex's promises to help him. He had believed in her promises about the coercion of Agatha. To-day he knew what her promises were worth. The moment fortune flung itself at his rival's feet, she had gone over to that rival's side! Suddenly the despised Dillwyn had become eligible and there was an end to all her professions of friendship.
He was at this moment a far richer man than Dillwyn, but Mrs. Greatorex had put all that aside as if it were not to be considered. She preferred that her niece should marry a gentleman with three thousand a year, rather than a nobody with five. She had not so much as hinted at it, yet she had managed to convey her meaning all the same. The little delicately-written, perfumed missive was full of it!
The oath he had sworn was dear to him. He had told Agatha that rather than see her married to Dillwyn he would destroy him. Well!
He began to walk again, and more rapidly. He could not take his mind off that ladder; with his eyes open, he seemed to see it. It went along the road before him, now here, now there, with the sashless window at the top of it.
He turned in the direction of the Red House. He hated going home. But it would be necessary to put in an appearance there. He feared lest, with what lay before him, his absence at dinner to-day might be noticed by the servants.
Afterwards, when the household was quiet, he could slip out through the library window. He told himself he must be careful to upset the bedclothes on his return—perhaps, however, it would be better to do so before starting.
He laid his plans very carefully. It would take, first so long to get from here to The Cedars, to mount the ladder, to enter the open window, to—It would not take long to do that—and then so much time to get back again, to see to his clothes—the spots, the stains.