"His name, I say!—his name!" thundered the knight.
And he unsheathed his sword.
Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. When she came to herself, she found that her brother had quitted the room, leaving her to the care of a female attendant. Her first orders were to summon the rest of her servants to make immediate preparations for her departure for Lancashire.
"To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic.
"Instantly, Hobson," returned Lady Trafford; "as soon as the carriage can be brought round."
"It shall be at the door in ten minutes. Has your ladyship any further commands?"
"None whatever. Yet, stay! There is one thing I wish you to do. Take that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. Where is Sir Rowland?"
"In the library, your ladyship. He has given orders that no one is to disturb him. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away."
"Very well. Lose not a moment, Hobson."
The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and retired.