"What's to be done now?" she thought, as she put the ring in a drawer. "Shall I go down and explain—say I was out for a stroll?"—She shook her head.—"Won't do now—I should have had more presence of mind a minute ago. Augustina would suspect a hundred things. It's really dramatic. Shall I go down? He didn't see my face—no, that I'll answer for! Here's for it!"
She pulled out the golden mass of her hair till it made a denser frame than usual round her brow, looked at her white dress—shook her head dubiously—laughed at her own flushed face in the glass, and calmly went downstairs.
She found an anxious group in the great bare servants' hall. The old man, supported by pillows, was stretched on a wooden settle, with Helbeck, Augustina, and Mrs. Denton standing by. The first things she saw were the old peasant's closed eyes and pallid face—then Helbeck's grave and puzzled countenance above him. The Squire turned at Miss Fountain's step. Did she imagine it—or was there a peculiar sharpness in his swift glance?
Mrs. Denton had just been administering a second dose of brandy, and was apparently in the midst of her own report to her master of Scarsbrook's story.
"'I wor just aboot to pass her,' he said, 'when I nawticed 'at her feet made noa noise. She keäm glidin—an glidin—an my hair stood reet oop—it lifted t'whole top o' my yed. An she gaed passt me like a puff o' wind—as cauld as ice—an I wor mair deed nor alive. An I luked afther her, an she vanisht i' th' varra middle o' t' path. An my leet went oot—an I durstn't ha gane on, if it wor iver so—so I juist crawled back tet hoose——'"
"The door in the wall!" thought Laura. "He didn't know it was there."
She had remained in the background while Mrs. Denton was speaking, but now she approached the settle. Mrs. Denton threw a sour look at her, and flounced out of her way. Helbeck silently made room for her. As she passed him, she felt instinctively that his distant politeness had become something more pronounced. He left her questions to Augustina to answer, and himself thrust his hands into his pockets and moved away.
"Have you sent for anyone?" said Laura to Mrs. Fountain.
"Yes. Wilson's gone in the pony cart for the wife. And if he doesn't come round by the time she gets here—some one will have to go for the doctor, Alan?"
She looked round vaguely.