"This must be seen to immediately," he said. "Go back to the ballroom as if nothing had happened and wait for me there. As for myself, I am going to smoke a cigar in the garden, and wait to see who the mysterious individual is who has been so peremptorily summoned here. You see how important it is."
Claire saw that there was much in what Jack said. Obediently enough she went off to the ballroom, and waited eagerly for the return of her lover. He seemed a long time coming, and nearly an hour had passed before he came back and strolled up to Claire in as casual a way as possible. But she could see that his eyes were gleaming behind his mask. He was breathing fast, too.
"Have you discovered who it was?" Claire asked eagerly.
"Yes," Jack replied. "They are both together. As I more than half expected, the fresh arrival is Serena."
[CHAPTER XLI.]
THE WORM TURNS.
Meanwhile, it is necessary to go back for a few moments to the garden and summer-house where Jack had been waiting, to see who was going to keep the assignation with Anstruther. On the whole, it was not unpleasant work, seeing that the night was very fine and warm, and at the same time dark and velvety. There were not many gardens in London as finely proportioned as those behind Barmouth's residence. It was wonderful, in the midst of that atmosphere, that flowers and shrubs could flourish so kindly. There were not many paths, most of the ground being given over to turf, so that Jack's feet made no noise as he walked along in the direction of the green gate which gave upon the lane beyond.
The gate turned out to be a door in the wall hidden from view inside by a deep belt of shrubs. It was here that Jack hid himself, and stood smoking his cigar with a determination to stay there all night if necessary. The best part of an hour had elapsed before there was a noise outside, and a hand turned the latch. Jack dropped his cigar, and ground it into the soft earth with the heel of his slipper. By this time his eyes had got accustomed to the darkness, so that it was not a difficult matter to make out the outlines of the approaching figure. The figure was that of a woman, evidently dressed for the evening, and wearing a mask.
Jack was not to be deceived; he knew that form perfectly well, even if he had not recognized the dress, which the wearer had used the night of his visit to Carrington's.
"Serena," he whispered to himself. "Well, I might have expected that. Now to see what will happen next."