[CHAPTER LVIII.]
As Ida paused for a moment, wondering what course would be best to pursue, she concluded that her only course would be to return to the house for the money.
She had scarcely turned, before a piercing cry sounded through the grounds, coming from the direction of the brook.
Ida, terrified, stood for a moment rooted to the spot. She tried to fly, but if her life had depended upon it, she could not have stirred hand or foot.
She distinctly heard the sound of voices. Still, all power to fly seemed to have left her.
What could it be? Had some of the servants discovered Royal Ainsley's presence?
She tried to think, but she was powerless. Every sound seemed confusing.
Guided by the light, Nora had dashed quickly down toward the brook. But ere she could reach the figure pacing up and down so impatiently, she was seized from behind by a pair of strong arms, a white angry face bent over her, and a voice, which she instantly recognized as her master's, cried harshly: