"What a pity it is you women all write so much alike that it's uncommonly difficult to swear to your writing. I'm perplexed by this letter. I can't quite understand being summoned away from my pet. I think you know Lady Eversleigh's hand?"
"Yes," answered the lady; "I received two letters from her before coming here. I could scarcely be mistaken in her handwriting."
"You think not? Very well, then, please tell me if that is her hand," said the captain showing Mrs. Morden the address of the missive he had just received.
"I should say decidedly, yes, that is her hand."
"Humph!" muttered the captain; "she said something about wanting me when the hour of retribution drew near. Perhaps she has succeeded in her schemes more rapidly than she expected, and the time is come."
The little girl had just quitted the room with her nurse, to be dressed for her morning run in the gardens. Mrs. Morden and the captain were alone.
"Lady Eversleigh asks me to go up to London," he said, at last; "and I suppose I must do what she wishes. But, upon my word, I've watched over little Gertrude so closely, and I've grown so foolishly fond of her, that I don't like the idea of leaving her, even for twenty-four hours, though, of course, I know I leave her in the best possible care."
"What danger can approach her here?"
"Ah; what danger, indeed!" returned the captain, thoughtfully. "Within these walls she must be secure."
"The child shall not leave the castle, nor shall she quit my sight during your absence," said Mrs. Morden. "But I hope you will not stay away long."