Tiny half rose; and he was about offering his arm to conduct her back to the drawing-room, when a voice below arrested him.
“Don’t stop me! I must see him. I know he is here.”
“But you can’t, you know. Here, Edward!”
It was one of the servants who called, but he was too late; the strange visitor had already reached the landing as Sir Hampton hurried down, aghast at such a daring interruption.
At that moment the woman uttered a cry of joy, and darted towards where Vanleigh stood with his companion.
“Oh, Arthur!” she cried, “they would not bring a message. I was obliged to force my way in.”
“Who is this madwoman?” cried Vanleigh, turning of a waxy pallor, while Tiny clung to the balustrade for support.
“Yes; mad—almost!” cried the woman, with a piteous cry. “But come—come at once! She is praying to see you once more. Arthur, Arthur,” she panted, sinking at his knees, and clasping them, “for God’s sake, come—our darling is on the point of death!”
“Who is this woman? Er-rum—Edward—James!” cried Sir Hampton, “where are the police?”
“Don’t touch me!” cried the unwelcome visitor, starting to her feet; and her words came panting from her breast. “Quiet, Arthur, or it’s too late! Sir,” she cried, turning to Sir Hampton, whose hand was on her arm, “I am Captain Vanleigh’s wife!”