Mrs. Northrup was too excited to leave her seat; but the rest followed quickly on Hubert's heels to the anteroom.
One instant more and a wild, hoarse cry in Varrick's voice echoed through the place.
The room was empty! Where was Gerelda? There was no means of exit from that room save the door by which he had entered. Perhaps she had leaned from the window and fallen out. He rushed quickly to it and glanced down, with a wild prayer to Heaven to give him strength to bear what he might see lying on the ground below. But instead of a white, upturned face, and a shimmering heap of satin and lace, he beheld a ladder, which was placed close against the window; and half-way down upon it, caught firmly upon one of the rounds, he beheld a torn fragment of lace, which he instantly recognized as part of Gerelda's wedding veil.
He could neither move nor speak. The sight held him spell-bound. By this time Mrs. Northrup reached his side.
"Oh! I might have known it, I might have guessed it!" she wildly cried, clutching at Varrick's arm. "She must have eloped with—with Captain Frazier," she whispered.
"Hush!" cried Varrick. "I know it, I believe it, but no one must know. I see it all. She repented of marrying me at the eleventh hour, and ere it was too late she fled with the lover who must have awaited her, in an agony of suspense, outside."
All the guests had gathered about them.
"Where is Miss Gerelda?" they all cried in a breath.
"She must have fallen from the window," they echoed; and immediately there was a stampede out toward the grounds.
In the excitement of the moment no one noticed that Hubert Varrick and Mrs. Northrup were left behind.