But the individual who passed so closely, did not observe her—for the evening was very dark, and she moreover was sitting in the still deeper obscurity of the ruined portico.
Neither was she enabled to obtain a glimpse of his countenance: the outline of a tall and somewhat stout figure, as he hurried by her, was the extent of the view which she caught of him.
In a few moments all was again silent: the sounds of the retreating footsteps no longer met her ears.
She did not immediately leave the ruins: she paused to reflect upon the strange conversation which she had overheard. But all its details were dark and mysterious—save that one man was a wretch who gloried in his readiness to perform any crime for a commensurate reward, and that the other was either his accomplice or his employer in some fearful plot that was in progress.
There was one expression that had fallen from the lips of the former miscreant, and on which Lady Ravensworth principally dwelt:—"Now that you have made me acquainted with the whereabouts, I shall be constantly ascertaining how things go on."
Could the whereabouts, or locality, alluded to, have any connexion with that neighbourhood? And, if so, did the observation refer to the Ravensworth estate? Or were the two men merely discussing, in those ruins, matters which regarded some other and totally distinct spot?
"The latter supposition must be the right one," said Adeline to herself, after a long meditation upon the subject. "The only person in the world who could have any interest in learning 'how things were going on' in this neighbourhood, is Gilbert Vernon; and he is in Turkey. Moreover—even were he in England—he would have no need to spy about in the dark: he is on friendly terms with his brother, and might present himself boldly at the Hall."
Thus reasoning against the vague and temporary fears which had arisen in her mind, Adeline rose from the bench and was about to retrace her steps homewards, when the moon suddenly appeared from behind a cloud, and its rays fell upon a small white object that lay at the lady's feet.
She mechanically picked it up:—it was a piece of paper on which she could perceive, by the moonlight, that a few words were written; but she could not decypher them.
Nevertheless, the mode in which the short lines were arranged struck her with the idea that this paper contained an address; and a natural association of facts immediately encouraged the belief that she held in her hand the one which the self-vaunted bravo had given ere now to his companion, and which the latter might probably have dropped by accident.