“I had no intention of troubling you again—at least, to-night”—he said, in a curiously strained voice, as though he were keeping control of it with difficulty—“but there is something I should like to ask you. I have been away—on the Continent—and have only returned a few hours ago. This lover of yours and cousin of mine—this Dandy Chater——”
“In Chelmsford Jail,” she reminded him, with a smile.
“In Chelmsford Jail. When—when did you see him last?”
She was on the point of answering, in some equivocal fashion which should not betray the fugitive, when she stopped, struck dumb by the expression on Ogledon’s face. He was looking past her, at something behind; turning, she saw Philip standing bareheaded and perfectly still in the moonlight, against the background of dark trees.
Ogledon stood for a moment, with his eyes starting, and his breath coming and going in gasps, while Philip stood absolutely rigid; then, with a terrible cry, he dropped forward upon his knees, and covered his face with his hands. When he ventured to look up again, Philip had vanished into the shadows.
CHAPTER XX
NEPTUNE TO THE RESCUE
Not daring to venture near the Cottage again, Philip got as near to the village as he could, and hung about, until lights were gleaming only in the upper windows of cottages, and until the doors of the Chater Arms had been closed for some time upon the last roystering yokel who had had more than was good for him. His purpose was to see Betty Siggs, and assure her, in accordance with his promise, of Clara’s welfare. But it took a longer time to carry out his purpose than he had anticipated.
Over and over again, when he was almost within touch of the place, he would fancy he heard a door being opened, or that footsteps were coming cautiously towards him; and would make a dash back into the darkness. At last, however, he managed to get round to the back of the inn, and to take a survey of its windows.
Now, it so happened that two of those windows were lighted—clearly showing that some one else was going to bed, in addition to Toby Siggs and his wife. Knowing nothing about the disposition of the various rooms upstairs, Philip was, for a time, at a loss what to do; being dreadfully afraid that he might rouse the wrong party and bring disaster upon himself. At last, tired with waiting, he determined to take the risk, and to throw a few small pebbles at the larger of the two lighted windows. This he did—sending the stones rattling smartly against the glass once or twice—and then crept into the darkness, and awaited results.
Unfortunately, it happened that the chief guest room at the Chater Arms was the largest room upstairs; and that Mr. and Mrs. Siggs, in their modesty, and with an eye to business, occupied a smaller apartment. And in that guest room, at that particular time, reposed the important figure of Inspector Tokely, who had been stopped, in his projected return to London that afternoon, by the intelligence that his prisoner had broken jail, and was thought to be in the neighbourhood of Bamberton.