Over the heads of the stupidly staring group I saw a white, startled face, and Lesba’s great eyes met my own with a quick look of comprehension. Then she disappeared, and I turned again to the wondering servants.
“Make haste!” I cried. “Can you not understand? Every moment is precious.”
But the frightened creatures gazed upon each other silently, and I thrust them aside and ran through the house in frantic search for the murderess. The rooms were all vacant, and when I reached the entrance hall a groom stopped me.
“Senhora de Mar left the house five minutes ago, sir. She was mounted upon our swiftest horse, and knows every inch of the country. It would be useless to pursue her.”
While I glared at the fellow a soft hand touched my elbow.
“Come!” said Lesba. “Your horse is waiting—I have saddled him myself. Make for the station at Cruz, for Izabel will seek to board the train for Rio.”
She had led me through the door across the broad piazza; and as, half-dazed, I mounted the horse, she added, “Tell me, can I do anything in your absence?”
“Nothing!” I cried, with a sob; “Dom Miguel is locked up in the vault, and I must find the key—the key!”
Away dashed the horse, and over my shoulder I saw her still standing on the steps of the piazza staring after me.
The station at Cruz! I must reach it as soon as possible—before Izabel de Mar should escape. Almost crazed at the thought of my impotency and shuddering at the knowledge that de Pintra was slowly dying in his tomb while I was powerless to assist him, I lashed the good steed until it fairly flew over the uneven road.