Lady Markham could say nothing, only kiss and embrace her boy, torn as she was by conflicting emotions—the desire to keep him, and that of wishing him safe away.
All at once, Scar started from his mother’s encircling arm, and darted to the window, but only to draw back, for there were two sentinels talking just beneath.
Then he ran to the door, but drew back, for steps of armed men were heard coming along the corridor, and escape was cut off there.
“Caught,” he said grimly. “Poor father will not get his news.”
At that moment there was the sharp summons of a set of knuckles on the door.
Chapter Twenty Eight.
How Lady Markham Left the Hall.
“Hist!” whispered Lady Markham, in her agitation snatching at the first straw that offered. “They may think we are asleep, and will go away.”