"Why, what I say!" said he. "Why do you look like that, Mr. Mallock?"
"Tell me!" I cried. "Tell me this instant!"
"Why: she is Maid of Honour to Her Majesty. The Duchess of Portsmouth is protecting her."
"Where is she?"
"Why—"
"Where is she?"
"She is with the rest, I suppose…. Mr. Mallock! Mr. Mallock! Where are you going?"
But I was gone.
CHAPTER II
When I was out in the air I stopped short; and then remembering that Mr. Chiffinch would be after me perhaps, and would try to prevent me, I went on as quick as I could, turned a corner or two in that maze of passages, and stopped again. As yet I had no idea as to what to do; my brain burned with horror and fury; and I stood there in the dark, clenching my hands again and again, with my whip in one of them. It was enough for me that my Cousin Dolly was in that den of tigers and serpents that was called the Court, and under the protection of the woman once called Carwell. There was not one thought in my brain but this—all others were gone, or were but as phantoms—the King, the Duke, Monmouth, the Queen—they would be so many wicked ghosts, and no more—before me—and I would go through them as through smoke, to tear her out of it.