"That is the programme," Silva said coolly. "Unfortunately, you will not be able to see the Countess tonight. You may believe me or not, but I am sorry to have been compelled to take a step like this. But you see, Lord Ravenspur's plans made it quite impossible for me to wait till tomorrow."
Vera was silent for a moment. She could see plainly that Ravenspur's clever scheme for getting away to Weymouth had been betrayed by someone to this man. Her chief anxiety for the moment was for her guardian. It was terrible to think that he had been dogged and watched by people so cunning and unscrupulous as these. Vera was still thinking the matter over when the cab stopped and Silva bade her get out. A wild idea of appealing to the cabman for assistance was dismissed as she caught sight of his face. There was a grin upon it, and the driver unmistakably winked at Silva. There was just enough light for Vera to see that the cabman was not wearing a badge. Doubtless he was a conspirator, too. There was nothing for it but to see the thing through to the finish. So Vera followed Silva through the garden till he paused at length on the steps of a house, which appeared to be in total darkness.
"The servants have gone to bed," Silva explained, as he opened the door with a latchkey. "If you will wait a moment, I will turn up the gas. If you desire anything----"
"Nothing," Vera said curtly. "All I want you to do is to show me to my room. I wish to be alone."
Silva bowed politely enough. He turned and locked the door, and Vera saw that he dropped the key in his pocket. Then he took a silver candlestick from the hall table and handed it to Vera, intimating that he would like her to precede him up the stairs. They came at length to a room in the roof of the house which appeared to be comfortably, almost luxuriously furnished, and with every feminine requirement at hand. With absolute amazement Vera saw her own silver toilet set laid out on the dressing table, her handbag was on the floor, and in one corner of the room stood the two dress-baskets which her maid had packed for immediate use on board the yacht. A slight smile of amusement flickered over Silva's face as he noticed Vera's amazement.
"Everything has been done to make you comfortable," he said. "It was my own idea to remove your immediate belongings from Waterloo Station and bring them on here. I assure you that it was no difficult job. And now I wish you goodnight, with a thousand pardons for the way in which I have been compelled to treat you. Tomorrow morning----"
Silva paused significantly and bowed himself out of the room. He closed the door gently behind him, and Vera waited till the sound of his footsteps had died away. She tried the door, but, as she had anticipated, it was fastened on the outside. Beyond all question, she was a prisoner. There was nothing but to make the best of it, and wait on the course of events. There were two bolts on the inside of the door, and, having secured these, Vera felt easier in her mind. She undressed slowly, and more for something to occupy her mind than anything else. She would never be able to sleep again. The idea of sleep seemed to be out of the question. Yet, within ten minutes, Vera had fallen into a deep slumber from which she did not wake until the sun was shining high, and the birds were singing in the trees. The girl rose eagerly and looked out. She could see a wide expanse of green lawn, with big shaded trees here and there. On two sides of the house a common stretched away apparently to the confines of space. How far she was from London Vera could not say. Certainly she had never been here before. She was still admiring the beauty of the landscape when there came a quiet knock at the door, and after the bolts were drawn Silva came in. He was, if possible, even more abjectly apologetic than on the previous evening.
"I am bound to intrude," he said. "You see, this house has only been taken for a time, and the servants are absolutely in ignorance of your presence here. I merely came to show you where you could find all the requisites for your breakfast, and as to the rest, they are in this basket. Here is a spirit lamp, so that you can boil your own water. I am in great hopes that before evening I shall be able to give you what is practically the freedom of the house. Do not think too harshly of me."
Vera made no reply; she was only pleased to have the room to herself again, so that she could think the matter out. She ate her breakfast slowly, for time was beginning to hang on her hands. Any action was better than sitting there doing nothing. It was some time later when she crossed to the window, and looked out. She saw three men busily engaged in some occupation on the lawn. She saw Silva come out and address them, apparently in tones of expostulation, so far as she could judge from his actions. Then one of the men looked up, and Vera could see that he had noticed her. A moment later the man stooped down, and went through some sort of a pantomime, which, in the circumstances, puzzled Vera extremely. Why should that grave-looking official stoop down and imitate the motions of one who is stroking a dog?