Never had the journey to London seemed so long and tedious to Nell as it did on this occasion. From the coach office she drove to Lady Carradine's, where, although she had not advised her ladyship of her coming, she knew that she was sure of a welcome. Half an hour later she was on her way to Chelsea.
Mrs. Mardin received her with a burst of tears; indeed, the good soul had done little else than cry since the child had been missed. Her story did not take long in the telling.
It was a fine afternoon, and Evan had been playing, as he was often allowed to do, with some neighbors' children in a field not more than a couple of hundred yards from the house. Mrs. Mardin had been on the point of going to call him in to tea, when one of his playmates came to tell her that Evan had gone off with a tall, dark gentleman, who went up to him in the field, and, telling him that "a pretty lady" had sent for him, led him away to a carriage which was waiting in the lane close by, into which they both got and were at once driven away. From the first Mrs. Mardin had felt convinced in her own mind that the boy had been abducted by means of a ruse, and that there was no intention of bringing him back.
Then she went on to inform Nell that she had not only written to her, but to Mr. Dare as well, who fortunately happened to be in town, and had lost no time in making his appearance at Lawn Cottage. Further, when told that Miss Baynard had been communicated with, and in all likelihood would come as fast as the coach could bring her after her receipt of the news, he had at once hired a room at an inn in the neighborhood, thinking that she might perhaps like to see him and consult with him in the matter as soon as possible after her arrival.
At the mention of Dare's name the wild-rose tints in Nell's cheeks deepened till they glowed like those of a damask rose, and the thought of so soon seeing him again sent a rush of happiness to her heart, and caused her to tingle from head to foot with a flush of gladness which yet had in it a touch of apprehension. It might be a fact that her strength had failed her in her struggle against fate, and that her heart had secretly capitulated, but the secret was her own and should never pass her lips. Her conqueror should never know that he had conquered; on that point she was resolved. And yet in the midst of her happiness she trembled at the thought of meeting Dare again. Was it because she had a fear of betraying herself in her own despite, or was it because she was conscious that she had to guard against a traitor who had betrayed her once already?
A question which Mrs. Mardin put to her did not tend to reassure her:
"Shall I send word to Mr. Dare that you are here, Miss, and that you would like to see him?"
She was still hesitating over her reply when there came a ring at the bell. "Why, that must be him!" exclaimed the widow; and so it proved to be. He had been watching for Nell's arrival, had seen her come, and, after waiting half-an-hour, had followed her to the cottage. But of all this he said nothing.
Nell strung herself up, and met him without any show of embarrassment, but not without a touch of heightened color. Dare was as easy, cool, and as much master of himself as he always was. The only difference that any one who knew him well might have marked in him was that his eyes to-day were more than ordinarily brilliant. When he had shaken hands with Nell he sat down in the chair just vacated by Mrs. Mardin.
Nell had not forgotten the return of the mask and all that was implied thereby, and as her eyes met Dare's she could not help saying to herself, "Does he still know me simply as Miss Baynard of Stanbrook, or has he discovered in me the amateur highwayman to whom on a certain occasion he behaved with such signal kindness?" But it was a question she was no nearer being able to answer to-day than she had been the first time she asked it.