Then in an instant a solution flashed upon her. Marmaduke had not really gone by the afternoon coach; or, if he had, so far, was to return that night to the Cross-keys, and the trap was to take Fantine Le Grand to him by the bridge road!
The beating of her heart steadied itself. She folded up the paper and put it in her pocket, her vehement determination, somehow or another, to frustrate this plan almost forgotten for the time in wonder at the chance which had brought to her this knowledge.
The paper must have fallen out of the pocket of some coat Andrew had been packing up--how easily it might not so have fallen! How easily she might not have noticed it! A facile wonder obscured real thought, and, as usual in such sudden crises, concrete determination hid itself under one general determination to frustrate the machinations of the enemy, if possible. She did not even ask herself how this was to be done; all she told herself was that it must be done.
So, rousing to a sense that afternoon was passing to evening, and that it was time for her to be in attendance at the castle, she went thither, feeling vaguely that if it was necessary to kill the woman, even that must be done, sooner than she should be allowed to hamper Marmaduke's young life.
Fantine Le Grand had not yet come up from her daily duty of amusing Lord Drummuir, so Marrion mechanically began, as usual, to prepare for the evening's toilette, She found all the valuables gone from the jewel-case, and, after a hasty search, discovered them in a tiny valise, ready packed hidden away behind laces and ribbons in a drawer.
So she had been right. Fantine Le Grand meant to give them the slip. Ere she had time to consider a fretful voice came from the boudoir.
"Marrion, Marrion! I do hope the girl's there. Just like 'em if she isn't. Ah," as Marrion appeared at the door, "for heaven's sake, girl, take off my shoes and bring me my dressing-gown! That wretched old man has worn me out. I shall be fit for nothing! Oh, lord, it was too bad--nothing would please him! What o'clock is it? Six o'clock! Good gracious, I shall hardly have time before dinner! I won't go down; there's no one to go down for now Marmaduke's gone. Lord, what a relief it will be! Tell them to bring dinner up here at eight and give me my sleeping drops. Not too much, as I don't want to sleep too long; but I have such a headache, I shan't be fit for anything without a rest."
Fantine Le Grand did not see her attendant's face. Had she done so, she would have been startled. The colour had left it, every feature was set and hard. For she had found the clue. Even if an overdose killed the woman, she must be made to sleep sound.
"Yes, madam," she replied, "but a rest will take your headache away, I hope."
She poured out the narcotic without a tremble, doubling the double dose. It was a risk, of course; but risks must be run.