The old man was talking, it suddenly occurred to Clifford, to fill up the time, for he made no movement in the direction of the garden way of which he spoke, but stood in an attitude which showed that he was listening intently.
“Hark! What was that?” he asked abruptly.
Clifford had heard nothing. A doubt, born of hope rather than fear, of the Colonel’s complete sanity crossed his mind.
“Upstairs—upstairs!” went on the old man, impatiently, as he at last moved, in a shuffling step, toward the door. “I think I heard a window open.”
“Shall I go upstairs and see?” asked Clifford. “What are you afraid of?”
“My daughter—is very determined. She has made up her mind—that she will not—give evidence,” answered Colonel Bostal, in a shaking voice. “Yes, you can go up and see.”
Clifford went up the narrow staircase, and called gently:
“Miss Bostal!”
No answer. But he heard some one moving about softly in the room on his right. He went close to the door, and said, with his mouth so near to the keyhole that she could not fail to hear him:
“Miss Theodora! Your father has sent me.”