Then Royal Ainsley sped like a deer through the grounds, every foot of which he knew well, and was quickly lost to sight in the darkness.
After that first sharp cry, Nora regained something of her natural bravado.
In less time than it takes to tell it, her master had dragged her toward the house and under the full light of the swinging lamp.
"Oh, master!" she cried, gaining her breath at last "It's I, Nora, the maid!"
Eugene Mallard's tightly clinched hands fell from her; he stared aghast at the girl.
"You, Nora!" he cried, in the greatest amazement, with a world of relief and thankfulness blended in his voice.
"Pray for—forgive me, Mr. Mallard," sobbed the girl. "I—I did not do any intentional wrong. I was only going down to the old south gate to meet my lover, sir. I—I did not think for a moment that any one would mind. My lady did not need me for an hour or more. Oh, please forgive me if my action has displeased you!"
"It was your lover that you were going to meet?" repeated Eugene Mallard, as if to satisfy himself that he had heard aright.
He drew back and looked at Nora with fixed intentness, the color that had left his face surging back to it again.