Marian put down the decanter she was carrying with a little cry of relief.
"Oh, dear, I'm so glad to see you all right again. What an awful adventure you've had!"
Maud smiled placidly. She was her old self again, stately and composed.
"It might have been a great deal worse but for your brother," she acknowledged; "I wonder if they've found out at the Court. They'll be getting a little anxious if they have."
"Unless I'm very much mistaken they've found out," I answered. "Listen."
I went out and threw open the hall door. Clearly enough we could hear the alarm bell at the Court clanging out with shrill, quick strokes, and the whole of the park seemed dotted with men carrying lanterns, looking like will-o'-the-wisps, and making the soft night air echo with their hoarse shouts. Two figures were rapidly approaching the cottage, and I hailed them.
"Have you seen anything of Miss Devereux?" called out Groves, the head butler. "She's out in the park somewhere a-walking in her sleep."
"She is here," I answered, and then I went in and told Maud that they had come for her.
Marian left us to find a warmer cloak and thicker shoes, and for a moment we were together. She turned to me at once with a sweet, sad smile on her lips, and a look of regret shining out of the azure depths of her dim eyes.
"Mr. Arbuthnot, I had quite forgotten, in all this excitement, what happened in the picture gallery. We are cousins, are we not?"