And a very extraordinary movement, too, if it was that of a rational being. Something dark, the height of a tall man, appeared to emerge from the clusters of trees skirting the lawn opposite, approach a few steps; and then dart in again and this was repeated over and over again, the man advancing always nearer to the other end of the house. It was like the motions of one who wished to come on, yet feared being seen; a full minute he stood within those dark trees, each time that he penetrated them.
I watched, still as a mouse, and gazed eagerly, feeling like one chilled with a sudden fear. It was certainly very singular. When opposite the west wing, he stood for a minute out on the open greensward, and took off his round broad-brimmed hat as he looked up at the windows. Then I recognised the features of Mr. Chandos. He wore a short cloak, which in a degree hid his figure; but there was no mistaking the face, for the moon shone full upon it. The next moment he crossed the grass, and disappeared within the narrow laurel path that led to the private entrance of the west wing.
How had he got out of his room? That he had not come out of its door, I felt sure; for I had been so silent that I must have heard it, had it opened; besides, that door of his would only open with a jerk and a creaking noise. If there was another door to his apartment, it must lead into the wing inhabited by Mrs. Chandos. Why had he been dodging about in that strange way in the grounds? and put on a cloak and broad hat to do it in, just as if he wished to disguise himself? And what could he want in the apartments of Lady Chandos in the middle of the night? Truly there was mystery at Chandos. But I could not solve it, and went to bed.
"Good morning, Miss Hereford."
The salutation came from Mr. Chandos, who was following me into the breakfast-room, having that instant quitted his own. I was going quickly; so was he; for we were late, and Lady Chandos liked punctuality. But she was not in the oak-parlour.
"That's right," he cried, when he saw the room empty. "I hope my mother has overslept herself too, and had as good a night as I have."
"Have you had a good night, sir?" came the involuntary question.
"Too good: a man does not want eight or nine hours' sleep. I dropped asleep the minute I got into bed last night; did not even hear my clock strike eleven, though it only wanted a few minutes to it; and I never woke until twenty minutes to eight this morning. I was very tired last night."
Was Mr. Chandos mystifying me? Somehow it caused me vexation. My eyes had a resentful expression as I fixed them on his; which, of course, they had no right in the world to have.
"You did not go to sleep at eleven o'clock, sir."