"I'm afraid we have been followed, Miss."
"Followed? By whom?"
"By the lady's maid. I saw her, a little while since, looking up at the hotel—and then she went back in a hurry on the way to the house—and that's not the worse of it, Miss."
"What else has happened?"
"We have made a mistake about the railway," said the woman. "There's a train from London that we didn't notice in the timetable. They tell me down-stairs it came in more than a quarter of an hour ago. Please to come back, Miss—or I fear we shall be found out."
"You can go back at once, Jane," said Lucilla.
"By myself?"
"Yes. Thank you for bringing me here—here I remain."
She had barely taken her seat again between Oscar and me, before the door was softly opened from the outside. A long thin nervous hand stole in through the opening; took the servant by the arm; and drew her out into the passage. In her place, a man entered the room with his hat on. The man was Nugent Dubourg.
He stopped where the servant had stopped. He looked at Lucilla; he looked at his brother; he looked at me.