The butler gave a long wail as Ainsleigh broke from his grasp. "No! no!" he cried, lifting his long hands, "not at night."
But Rupert, now quite himself, did not heed the superstitious cry. He disbelieved in ghosts more than ever. Some flesh and blood person had brought the fan, and recollecting Burgh's story, and what Olivia had reported of Miss Pewsey's talk that afternoon, he quite expected to find Dr. Forge lurking in the cloisters. He would search for him, and when face to face, he would demand an explanation. So Rupert swiftly and lightly, walked round, holding the light high and low in the hope of discovering some crouching form. And all the time Petley waited, trembling at the door.
The rain fell softly and there was a gentle wind swinging the heavy boughs of the pines, so that a murmurous sound echoed through the cloisters like the breaking of league-long waves on a pebbly beach. For at least half an hour Rupert searched: but he could see no one: he could not even find the impression of feet, sodden as was the ground. After looking everywhere within the cloister, and in the Abbey itself, he brushed past the old butler and walked down the avenue. Here also, he was at fault as he could see no one. The gates were closed: but there was a light in the small house near at hand. Ainsleigh knocked at the door, and shortly old Payne, holding a candle, above his head, appeared, expressing surprise.
"Has anyone entered the gates to-night?" asked his master.
"No sir. I closed them at five as usual. No one has come in."
There were no signs of the gates having been climbed, and the wall which ran round the estate was so high and the top was pricked with such cruel spikes, that no one could possibly have entered that way. Old Payne insisted that no one had entered: he had heard no voices, no footsteps, and seemed much perplexed by the insistence of his young master. At length Rupert desisted from making inquiries, being perfectly assured that he would learn nothing. He returned up the avenue slowly to the mansion, wondering how it came about, that Forge had entered the ground and left the fan on the very spot where Abbot Raoul had been burnt.
Mrs. Petley had recovered from her swoon and, with her husband, had retreated to the kitchen. So, Rupert learned from Olivia, and he then gave her a description of his finding of the fan. She was very amazed and curious. "Show it to me," she said.
"Not just now, dear," replied Rupert walking to the door. "I must ask Mrs. Petley first to explain what she saw."
"She declares it was Abbot Raoul."
"Pooh. Forge masquerading as the monk I expect. Though why he should come here and bring this infernal fan I cannot understand. What is the time, Olivia?"