"Grooton!" I called sharply.
Grooton appeared.
"Is any one at Braster Grange?" I asked.
"Not that I have heard of, sir," he answered.
"You do not know whether Mrs. Smith-Lessing is expected back?"
"I have not heard, sir. They left no servants there—not even a caretaker."
I stepped back again into the night and took the shortest cut across the park to the house. As I neared the entrance gates I left the path and crept up close to the plantation which bordered the road. My heart gave a jump as I listened. I could hear the low level throbbing of a motor somewhere quite close at hand. The lights had been extinguished, but it was there waiting. I did not hesitate any longer. I kept on the turf by the side of the avenue and made my way up to the house.
The library alone and one small window on the ground floor were lit. I crept up on the terrace and tried to peer in, but across each of the library windows the curtains were too closely drawn. There remained the small window at the end of the terrace. I crept on tiptoe towards this, feeling my way through the darkness by the front of the house. Suddenly I came to a full stop. I flattened myself against the stonework and held my breath. Some one else was on the terrace. What I had heard was unmistakable. It was the wind blowing amongst a woman's skirts, and the woman was very close at hand.
I almost felt her warm breath as she stole past me. I caught a gleam of a pale face, sufficient to tell me who she was. She passed on and took up her stand outside that small end window.
I, too, crept nearer to it.—About a yard away there was a projection of the front. I stole into the deep corner and waited. A few feet from me I knew that she too was waiting.