The probabilities are that Hilary’s obstinate determination would have lasted about an hour; but he was not called upon to carry it out, for just about noon, as he guessed, he fancied he heard a voice, and jumping up he ran to the window and listened.
Yes, there was no mistake about it. Some one was singing, and it was in sweet girlish tones.
“Ahoy! I say there!” shouted Hilary at the invisible singer, who seemed to be right away on the other side of the garden; and the singing stopped on the instant. “Is any one there?”
There was not a sound now, and he was about to cry out once more when he caught a glimpse of a lady’s dress, and a little slight figure came cautiously through the trees, looking wonderingly about.
“Hurrah!” shouted Hilary, thrusting out his arm and waving his hand, “Addy! Addy! Here!”
The figure came closer, showing the pleasant face and bright wondering eyes of Sir Henry Norland’s daughter, who came timidly on towards the building where Hilary was confined.
“Don’t you know me, Addy?” he cried.
“Hilary! you here?”
“Yes, for the present; and I’ve been kicking and shouting for hours. Am I to be starved to death?”
“Oh, Hilary!” she cried.