"Oh, no, ma'am, Captain Dangerfield did, but he is back again to-day. Oh, Mrs. Deborah, save my dear young lady!"
"Did you bring me no note or message, then?" I asked.
"Yes, Miss. I forgot! One from Mrs. Wilson. She has been very good to me, has Mrs. Wilson. She said the note was about some napkins or something!"
I took the note, and, dismissing Mary to her supper and the society of her favored lover, I opened it. It was fairly well written, and I had no trouble in reading it.
"Miss, if ever you loved Miss Leighton, contrive some way to help her to-night."
The word was underscored.
"To-morrow may be too late! They will all be in the great saloon at the other end of the house acting of plays. Miss is shut in her room. They will not let me near her. I sign no names for fear of accidents. Remember, to-night."
This, disentangled from her peculiar spelling, was Mrs. Wilson's note.
Mrs. Deborah looked at me in dismay.
"What can we do?" said she.