The girl could scarcely suppress an exclamation of horror. She remained, however, shivering and without uttering a sound, until Lady Sarah came close to her and put out her hand to open the side-gate which led into the road.
As she did so, she uttered a soft whistle.
And the sound was echoed from the other side of the wall.
The key was in the lock, when Rhoda sprang forward and touched Lady Sarah on the hand.
“Don’t go,” she whispered hoarsely. “Oh, Lady Sarah, think of your boy! Come back, come back!”
Lady Sarah had sprung away from her, and Rhoda, commanding the door in the wall, stood erect, blocking the way through.
“What do you mean? What do you want?” she hissed out fiercely.
“I want you to consider what you’re doing. I know that Mr. Rotherfield is waiting outside: I know that his car is in one of the side roads.”
“You are a spy,” cried Lady Sarah.
“I couldn’t help myself. I caught sight of the car before dinner, and, and——”