If Lady Arden was at all conscious of the raving of the tempest, it was rather calculated to yield her satisfaction than otherwise, for it was highly favourable to the attempt she knew was even then being made for Alfred's escape.
The window at which she now stood, was the same from which, with an almost prophetic melancholy, she had looked on the night of the festival for the coming of age of her sons. "The pitiless pelting of the storm," too, was such as it had been on that night—but here the parallel ceases: changed indeed was all beside!
From time to time she inquired the hour—waited—inquired again—again waited—and again inquired. "Go, my dear child, go, at any rate," she said at length, looking anxiously at Madeline, who immediately left the room; but in about a quarter of an hour returned, accompanied by Mr. Cameron. He was dripping with wet—covered with mud—and out of breath. Madeline during her short absence, bad been watching for him at a glass door which opened from a little boudoir into the lawn; she had just admitted him, and led him up stairs by a back way. On his entering the apartment, the door was cautiously closed by Mrs. Dorothea.
Lady Arden laid her hand on his arm and looked in his face.
"He is safe," he replied, "quite safe for the present."
She sank on her knees, and some seconds were devoted to silent, fervent thanksgiving; when being still unable to articulate, she once more looked up at Mr. Cameron and motioned him to proceed.
"The alarm was given," he continued, "before he was quite clear of the gates; but the cry being, 'Stop the prisoner!' and his appearance being that of Mr. Edwards, the porter did not interfere with his passing out. The turnkeys, it would seem, had not the presence of mind to say at the first, 'Stop Mr. Edwards!' and once outside the gate, the din of the tempest and the darkness with which, though it was past six in the morning, still exceeded that of most midnights, rendered it comparatively easy to baffle pursuit. He soon joined me, where we had appointed, beneath the great beech-tree; for had he been closely followed, he was to have climbed the trunk and concealed himself among the branches, while I was to have darted forward, and so led his pursuers astray: but finding ourselves unmolested as soon as the coast was clear, we proceeded with all speed to the castle. I have lodged him safely in the eagle's nest, and am come from thence this moment."
"Thank heaven!" ejaculated from time to time, was the only interruption. Mr. Cameron's account had met with, "He is so well wrapped up," he added, good naturedly endeavouring to offer what consolation he could; "and the turret is so small and the ivy so thick about it that he will be perfectly dry, and I do not think he will even feel it cold."
"We can see the exact spot from this place," exclaimed Lady Arden, rising eagerly and leaning from the window. "The eagle's nest looks this way."
"Were it not so dark," replied Cameron, also leaning out, "I think you might, the turret is certainly on this side of the building."