Edith looked perplexed. She knew that this man could not force his way unarmed through the gates. She did not feel inclined just yet to tell him to arm himself and shoot any one dead who opposed him. She could not bear to think of that. But here was Dudleigh, ready.
“Have you any fire-arms in the house?” he asked.
“No,” said Edith, “and, besides, I can not bear just yet to cause any thing like bloodshed.”
“If not, then you can not get free at once. Can you wait one day, or two days?”
“One or two days!” said Edith. “Oh yes; one or two weeks, or even months. Only let me hope, and I can wait.”
“You have this to comfort you, at any rate,” said Dudleigh, “that outside the gates you have a friend. And now I will not intrude any longer. I must go. But if you will allow me I will come back to-morrow. Meanwhile I will try to think over what is best to be done.”
“You will promise,” said Edith, imploringly, “not to desert me?”
“Desert you? Never! On the honor of a gentleman!” cried Dudleigh; and as he bowed his head there came over his face a very singular smile, which Edith, however, did not see.
He then took his leave.