“No, no,” whispered Harry. “He must not know I am here.”
“Not know?”
“Am I to break this door?” was thundered from the other side.
Harry glanced once more at the window. It was fancy. No one was below now that he could see; and he was in the act of unfastening it when there was a crash, the door flew open, and his father strode into the room. It did not seem to be the same man, and Harry shrank from the fierce, erect, angry figure which approached.
“As I might have guessed. You coward! So you would strip your sister of what money and jewels she has, and then escape!” Harry stood before him silent and with his head averted. “You did not counsel this flight, Louise?”
“No, father,” she said, in a low voice full of pain; and she looked from one to the other, as if mentally stunned, and unable to realise the force of all that was taking place.
“I thought not. You abject, miserable wretch!”
Harry started, and gazed half in fear, half in wonder, at the stern, commanding figure before him.
“It—it was to save you all from disgrace.”
Vine burst into a discordant laugh.