“Who brought this?”
“A priest who, with his companion, waits outside. I did not let them in.”
Master and man looked at one another, the same grim smile half visible upon each face. Then Mr. Barringcourt took out his watch and looked at it.
“It wants still twenty minutes till the dance is ended. It is barely twenty minutes after twelve. Are they impatient of delay?”
“I did not ask them.”
“We’ll go upon the supposition that they’re patient.” Then turning to Rosalie, he continued: “There was a time you told me that you scorned to run away, and never had done. Afterwards, upon much less occasion, you trusted to the fleetness of your feet. And now? Are you prepared to meet the enemy?”
“Indeed, no. Or perhaps I cannot tell. If you stood for council on my behalf I think I might enjoy it. For myself, I could never get much farther than the truth.”
“A marvellous short journey, with a sudden ending, but little reckoned upon Lucifram. What think you of lifetime imprisonment, Rosalie?”
“Ah! It is that that frightens me. I never liked the thought of prison. Must I really go?”
“What plan of escape is there?”