The evening passed as the evenings at Ryhall usually passed, with music in the red drawing-room, afterwards a hand at bridge, and billiards and cigars when the ladies had retired. Yet, watching Tibbie as I did all the evening, I did not fail to notice that her spirits were not nearly so high as usual. Though she very cleverly sought to conceal it, I saw that she was nervous and anxious, and that each time Ellice addressed her she shrank from him as though she held him in abhorrence, instead of having decided to accept him as her husband.
She possessed some secret, the knowledge of which held her in fear. Of that I became convinced.
We usually retired rather late at Ryhall. With the other men I had been smoking and gossiping in one of the smaller rooms leading from the billiard-room, a panelled apartment known as Dame Grace’s Room, and at two o’clock in the morning, Jack and his guests having taken their candles, I found myself alone with Eric.
I had just stretched myself yawning in my chair, and remarked that it was quite time we turned in, when my friend rose, closed the door, and returned to me, saying in a very low, mysterious voice,—“Wilfrid, I’ve been waiting all the evening to speak to you, only I couldn’t get you alone. They’ve all gone at last, so we can talk.”
“Well,” I said, throwing away my cigar, and bending towards him eagerly. “What is it, old fellow? Something serious, I know, from your manner.” For I saw that his good-humoured face was now pale and troubled.
“Yes. It is serious—very serious,” he said in a hard, low voice. “It concerns Sybil—your friend.”
“What about her?” I exclaimed, in quick surprise.
“I’ve learnt something to-day—something that utterly amazes me. I feel that it can’t be true. Therefore, I’m bound to confide in you, as you are her friend as well as mine. We must act together.”
“Tell me,” I said anxiously, “what have you heard? Some foolish story concerning her, of course.”
“Well. I know that I may rely on your secrecy, so I’ll relate the whole facts. About three o’clock this afternoon I left the others to try the turnips around Charlton Wood, and while walking on the edge of the thickets that fringe the forest I thought I heard voices. I have a quick ear for sound, you know. Well, wondering who might be there, I resorted to an old trick taught me by the African natives, and leaving my gun, crept in through the undergrowth without stirring a leaf until I was close to the strangers. Then parting the branches I saw to my utter amazement, Tibbie standing there with a man—a tallish fellow in a dark suit.”