"I have been, sir, and shall be," was the answer. "There's no fear of me. I have not had the interests of the family at heart all these years, Sir Karl, to compromise them now."
"I know, I know, Hewitt. Well, that's all, I think, for to-night."
Miss Blake passed back again out of hearing, very slowly and thoughtfully. She had heard the words, and was dissecting them: it almost sounded as though Sir Karl and his man had some secret together. Stepping on to the terrace, she was about to go in, when she heard Sir Karl enter the drawing-room and speak to his wife.
"I think I shall take a bit of a stroll, Lucy."
"To smoke your cigar? Do so, Karl."
"I--wonder--whether it is an excuse to go where he went the other night?" thought Miss Blake, the idea striking her like a flash of lightning. "I'll watch him. I will. I said I would, and I will. His family may have interests of their own, but Lucy and her family have theirs, and for her sake I'll watch."
Drawing the shawl over her head, she passed out at one of the small gates, crossed the road, and glided along under cover of the opposite hedge as far as the Maze. There she stood, back amidst the trees, and sheltered from observation. The dress she wore happened to be black, for it was one of St. Jerome's fast-days, the shawl was black, and she could not be seen in the shade.
It was a still night. The dew was rising, and there seemed to be some damp exhaled from the trees. The time passed, ever so many minutes, and she began to think she had come on a fruitless errand. Or was it that Sir Karl was only lingering with his wife?
"Good gracious! What was that?"
A shrill shriek right over Miss Blake's head had caused the words and the start. It must have been only a night bird; but her nerves--what few she had--were on the tension, and she began to tremble slightly. It was not a pleasant position, and she wished herself away.