The rest, not without bestowing a good many muttered left-hand compliments on the fumble-footed Rumsey, separated in much the same order as they had come,—some by the barge, which soon lost itself among the mists of the river, others making their way on foot by the Rye to Hoddesdon and the neighbourhood.
It was, however, with difficulty that Colonel Walcot's companions could drag him from the bridge.
All dark.
"Come along, Colonel," urged one; "you see you were wrong after all. There's not a thread of a gleam anywhere. Eh! see, 'tis all as dark as pitch."
"Ay," sighed Walcot, slowly moving on at last, "dark, dark enough."
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE MALT-YARD.
The postern was still on the latch when Ruth reached it. Alas! she had anticipated no less. That it was locked, was no longer one of her fears. She would have sooner her father had detected her midnight flitting now, and come upon her face to face. Anything sooner than that he should have been one of that terribly strange company. All, however, was still around and within. Not even the watch-dog uttered a sound, for he knew her step, and fawned at her feet as she passed; and safe and unseen by other eye than his she reached the end of the corridor, casting a glance as she stole across the floor at Maudlin, who to all appearance had not stirred.
Safe at last in the shelter of her own room, Ruth sank breathless and spent into a chair and, overcome by the fatigue and excitement of the long day's pleasures and pains, she fell into what must have been a sort of long fainting unconsciousness, or else it was real honest sleep that stole upon her unawares.
All she ever knew of it was, that when she opened her eyes again the sunbeams were flooding her room, and the gatehouse clock chiming. Six it must have been, since outside in the malting-yard she could hear the stir and voices of the men getting to their work. Pressing her chilled fingers upon her aching eyelids, she gazed round, striving to collect her dazed senses; and the events of the past night, as they came back to her mind, seemed like some bad dream. She sat up and threw back the heavy cloak still covering her shoulders with an impatient hand, as if she would have thrust the ugly fancies away with it; but a sudden clash and clatter at her feet recalled her thoroughly to herself, and she started up in dismay.