He saw a great striped curtain drawn back from behind the window, and from behind a lace curtain also, and, a moment later, there stepped on to the balcony a young woman clad all in black, though her long robe was broidered with white lace--a woman who, he saw at one glance, was tall and slight; while--also in the same glance--he perceived that she was beautiful.
After which, as he advanced hat in hand, until he was almost directly under that balcony where now the lady, her hands upon the edge, stood looking down at him bowing before her, he saw that she waved a sign of salutation to him, and, as she leant further over, said:
"Sir, for this visit I thank you. It is long since we have met. You are vastly welcome. Enter my house, I beg. One of the domestics will bring you to me."
With a bow, accompanied by a courteous acknowledgment of her words, Bevill proceeded towards the house, when to his astonishment he heard the old gardener, who had reached his side before this, mutter some words in an angry voice--the words, "He here again! He! No matter. To-night he shall not enter."
Attracted by these mutterings and also by the old man's glances directed towards the great gate, Bevill could not refrain from following those glances, and, as he did so, saw that a man's eyes were staring in through the wrought-iron bars.
The eyes he recognised as those belonging to the same man who had stared so inquiringly at him on the quay less than half an hour before.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
The hall of this old house was large and square, its floor composed of brown and yellow diamond-shaped marble tiles, over the greater part of which were thrown down various rugs of gorgeous hues. Facing the entrance was a large staircase, also of marble, that, after ascending for five steps, turned to either side and so led up to a gallery above, from which the first floor rooms opened all round.
Now, as Bevill entered the hall, he saw that Sylvia had descended from that floor and was standing on the top step of the five awaiting him. Then, as he approached, she descended the other four steps and, coming swiftly towards him with both hands outstretched, exclaimed:
"So you are Bevill Bracton, who once played with me in the gardens of Carey Villa at Fulham--the young man who pined to be a soldier and became one. In truth, and I am well pleased to see you; yet, had I met you elsewhere I should have scarce known you for my old playmate."