"They're coming into the house!" cried Hazel in an extravagant panic. "They——"
At that instant a loud voice beyond the door of the room was heard shouting to the men outside—
"Keep a keen eye while I go through the house! Don't let a soul escape. If they've hurt one hair of her head somebody's going to pay, and pay dear."
The millionaire was standing stock still in the middle of the room. A curious look was gleaming in his steady eyes. Hazel, in the midst of her pretended panic, beheld it and interpreted it. She read in it a recognition of the speaker's voice, but she also read incredulity and amazement.
But at that instant the door burst open and a great figure rushed headlong into the room. As the girl beheld it she flung wide her arms and, with a cry, ran towards the intruder.
"Gordon! Gordon! At last, at last!" she cried. "Oh, I thought you would never find me! Never, never!"
Her final exclamations were lost in the bosom of his tweed coat, as she flung herself into his arms and burst into a flood of hysterical weeping and laughter.
"Hazel! My poor little Hazel! Say, I've been nearly crazy. I——"
Gordon broke off, the girl still lying in his arms. His eyes had lifted to the face of his father, and their keen, steady glance became instantly absorbed by the gray speculation behind the other's.
"Dad! You?"