What is it that throws its shadow across the glade in the wake of Evie Ravensdale and Gloria de Lara? As the two saunter slowly along the forest’s green pathway, the figure of a man suddenly presents itself at the entrance to the glade, and stands motionless gazing after the retreating pair. Only for a moment though, as with a low laugh he turns quickly in the direction of “The Hut.” His movements are peculiar. He does not walk openly up to the cottage, but, concealing himself behind the rhododendron bushes which surround it in thick luxuriance, he stealthily and silently gains the porch, outside of which Gloria de Lara was sitting on the arrival of Evie Ravensdale.
Passing noiselessly along the verandah which runs round “The Hut,” the man suddenly comes to a halt outside a half-opened window, and peers in. A logwood fire burns cheerily on the hearth, but there are no lamps as yet in the room, and this is the only light that irradiates it. It is sufficient, however, to enable him to make out the form of a woman seated by the fire. Her elbows are resting on her knees, and her head is bent in her hands, and through the half-opened fingers she is gazing into the glowing blaze. A single ring flashes on the third finger of her left hand; one ring only, but no more. The man’s eyes dilate with passion and fury as they watch her. The expression is that of a wild beast gloating upon its prey. This man, too, has a smile of triumph upon his coarse, sensual lips, mingled with malignity and hate.
A quick shudder runs through Speranza de Lara—for this lonely woman is no other than she—as with a sudden impulse she raises her head and looks towards the window with a scared and startled expression. The man draws quickly back from his post of observation, and passing rapidly along the verandah disappears amidst the thick bushes already mentioned. Too late, however, to conceal his features from the gaze of the woman, who, alas! knows them too well. With a cry of horror she springs forward, and pushing open the window makes her way out on to the verandah. Two minutes later, and the tongue of a little tower bell rings out half-a-dozen sharp, warning notes. Evie Ravensdale and Gloria de Lara know full well their meaning. Their sound heralds the word “danger,” and brings them sharply to attention. When, a few minutes later, they reach “The Hut,” they find Speranza anxiously awaiting them.
“Evie and Gloria,” she says in a quiet, self-possessed voice, in which all trace of excitement is absent, “this is no longer a safe place for either of you. It must be quitted at once. I have just seen him.”
“Him! Who, mother dearest?” inquires Gloria anxiously.
“The worst enemy I have ever known, and therefore yours too,” my darling, answers Speranza, with a shudder. “Ever right, my child, were you when you said he was not dead, for I have just looked on the face of Lord Westray.”
As she speaks the distant sound of a galloping horse strikes upon their ears.
“Evie,” says Gloria coolly, a quiet smile lighting up her face, “will you see to the horses being saddled at once?”
