After an hour Jane Marley fastened the house door and retired to her room.
She would not have run the bolt had she anticipated that Rattenbury would return that night. Her action convinced Winefred that he had told her mother not to expect him back.
What could she do?
She listened to the ticking of the clock and awaited the striking of the hours. When ten o'clock sounded, then she was well aware that not another minute must be lost.
Noiselessly she crept out of bed and clothed herself; she hearkened whether her mother stirred, but heard no sound. On tiptoe, her shoes in her hand, she stole over the kitchen floor, and with caution and slowly drew the bolt.
The moment the door was open, a rush of cold air fanned the embers on the hearth into a glow; but she hastily passed outside, shut the door behind her and breathed freely. She was, at any rate, safe now from obstruction by her mother. Even if the latter had heard her, pursuit would be in vain; she could easily elude it among the thickets and in the dark.
She drew on her shoes. All within was still, she had not been overheard, her mother had not been roused.
Her heart beat furiously, and she was frightened at her undertaking. It was not that she was alarmed at being abroad and at night, but she was well aware of the magnitude of the issues dependent on her action.
If she failed—the goods would be confiscated, the band broken up, and the captain imprisoned for a lengthy period. At his age he might not live till his term expired.
The stars twinkled, a crescent moon shone, there was frost in the air.