“No, no,” cried Leslie passionately, “it is wasting time. She was forced to go. She was imploring him to let her stay when I came in, and they must be miles away by now. For heaven’s sake do something before it is too late.”
“A Frenchman?” said Uncle Luke eagerly.
“Yes; he spoke to her in French, as well as in English.”
“And did my niece speak to him in French?”
“No; she was appealing to him in English, but he spoke at times in French.”
“Do you hear this, George? Has Louise a French friend?”
“No,” cried her father angrily, “it is a delusion.”
“I would to heaven it were,” groaned Leslie, “I would to heaven it were!”
George Vine crossed to the bell-pull, and rang sharply, repeating the summons before Liza had time to enter the room.
“When did you see your mistress last?” he said sharply.