A great flood of light burst upon the room, and every eye was dazzled by the morning sunshine. Cowering in one corner, clad in his black robe and bands, sat Relton Norcot; Stark stood against Malherb and turned with a cry of horror to Grace as the daylight streamed upon her; while she in her turn hastened to him. The brown eyes fell upon the grey, and each saw that the other's were unharmed.
Gertrude Norcot spoke to Malherb.
"My brother alone can solve this apparent mystery," she said. "I pray you to withhold your judgment and your passion, Maurice Malherb, until Peter is here to speak and explain all for himself."
"I'm waiting for him. I've nothing to do with anybody else. Where is he? How comes it that he is not here to marry my daughter as he intended, the knave?"
"'Twas for me that he had plotted this romance," said Stark. "I cannot hear his name abused. The fault is all mine. I——"
"I'll hark to you later. For the present your business is with Bradridge here. This was what your admirable friend, Peter Norcot, had planned for you: a quick return to Prince Town. Nothing could be better, I trow. And now, my clerk——"
He turned to where Relton Norcot had been sitting, but the clergyman was gone. Unobserved he had slipped behind the curtains, got out of a window and disappeared.
"He's wise," said Malherb. "He feels that fresh air and daylight will best serve his purpose now. We shall find him anon."
Then he approached Grace and took her into his arms.
"Come what may, I'm in time. This is the greatest day of all my life. You shall hear about that. I could forgive the world—I could pardon all my enemies! But let those who know where Norcot bides hasten to him and bring him hither. He must answer for much. And answer to me he shall before I break bread. That he should prove a knave!"