"Is madam asleep?"
"Yes. Speak softly, she mustn't know that you are here. Perhaps we mistook Jerome's light."
"No, I'm sure of that. Hallo—!"
The voices broke off abruptly like the voices of two plotters who hear the sound of stealthy footsteps coming toward them. Jasper had made his way to the terrace wall. He flattened himself against it, expecting to see a head appear over the edge of the parapet.
Then he heard some one calling, "Who's there?"
It was Nance's voice, and the moonlight seemed to quiver with it. She had thrown her lattice open and was leaning out, and scanning the terrace. Durrell had drawn De Rothan under the dense shadow cast by one of the yews.
They remained there motionless, till Nance disappeared for a moment from the window.
"Quick, round to the back of the house."
"This game of hide-and-seek is all nonsense, Durrell. You had much better let the girl know the truth."
"No, no, she's not to be trusted."