"Hickens," I said, in a low tone, passing him to go upstairs, "I have the headache, and shall not take any dinner. Perhaps Harriet will kindly light a bit of fire in my room, and bring me up some tea."
For I had caught a glimpse of Mr. Chandos and the dinner, both waiting for me in the oak-parlour.
CHAPTER XXVI.
GETTING INTO THE WEST WING.
Sitting by the fire in the pretty bedroom with the candles on the table, and the chintz curtains drawn before the window, shutting out the pine-walk and any unearthly sight that might be in it, I thought and resolved. To remain at Chandos with its ostensible master in his present mood was excessively undesirable, almost an impossibility; and I began to think I might quit it without waiting for an answer from Miss Barlieu. The chief difficulty would be the getting away; the actual departure; for Mr. Chandos was certain to oppose it. Another difficulty was money.
It struck me that the only feasible plan would be to see Lady Chandos. I would tell her that I must go, not mentioning why; ask her to sanction it, and to lend me enough money to take me to Nulle. I did not see that I could leave without seeing her; certainly not without making her acquainted with the proposed fact, and thanking her for her hospitality and kindness. Heroines of romance, read of in fiction, might take abrupt flight from dwellings by night, or else; but I was nothing of the sort; only a rational girl of sober, everyday life, and must act accordingly.
"Do you happen to know how Lady Chandos is to-night, Harriet?" I asked, when the maid came in to inquire whether I wanted anything more.
"Her ladyship's a trifle better, Miss. I have just heard Hill say so."
Harriet left the room; and I sat thinking as before. That my seeing Lady Chandos could only be accomplished by stratagem I knew, for Hill was a very dragon, guarding that west wing. If it was really Lady Chandos who had been pacing the grounds—and Mrs. Penn was positive in her assertion and belief—she must undoubtedly be well enough to speak to me. It was but a few words I had to say to her; a few minutes' time that I should detain her. "Circumstances have called me away, but I could not leave without personally acquainting you, madam, and thanking you for your hospitality and kindness." Something to that effect: and then I would borrow the money—about forty, or fifty francs; which Miss Barlieu would give me to remit, as soon as I got to Nulle. With Lady Chandos's sanction to my departure, Mr. Chandos could not put forth any plea to detain me.
Never were plans better laid than mine—as I thought. Rehearsing them over and over again in my mind after I, lay down in bed, the usual sleeplessness followed. I tossed and turned from side to side; I began to repeat verses; all in vain. Sleep had gone away from me, and I heard the clock strike two.
I heard something else: a stir in the gallery. It seemed as if some one burst out at the doors of the west wing, and came swiftly to the chamber of Mr. Chandos. In the stillness of night, sounds are plainly distinct that would be inaudible in the day. The footsteps were like Hill's, as if she had only stockings on. There was a brief whispering in Mr. Chandos's chamber, and the same footsteps ran back to the west wing.