His daring coolness and nerve were now under full control. He stole out of the room, into the hall, with every sense alert to avoid discovery. His goal was the attic. He knew that the only way to reach it was by the service stairs, which he could use from the second floor. Before him was the main stairs. Without a moment of hesitation he leaped up the soft, thick, velvet-covered steps, his footfalls as silent as the tread of a cat. A door was ajar on his left; he cautiously pushed it open and entered. He saw at once that it was Sam's room. He glanced about, then opened a dresser drawer. "Ha, a revolver!" It was the work of a moment to examine the magazine. "Empty!" he exclaimed, with disgust, and was about to replace it when, on second thought: "It may do for a bluff." Another hasty look and he picked up a hunting knife, which he also appropriated. A slight noise at that moment startled him and caused him to look around alarmed. He slipped behind a door for concealment. After a moment of tense suspense, and the quietness continuing unbroken, he stole out of the room. So far everything was in his favor. Further along two doors, a few feet apart, were open. He had passed one on his way to the attic stair, when, of a sudden, he heard a slight sound, as of a person moving lightly in the room. He instantly turned aside and passed through the second open doorway. Virginia stood before him. She was at that moment hastening from the room, absorbed in thoughts of Constance. With a stifled, painful cry of "Oh!" she shrank from him in a vague terror. Her face paled and her eyes expanded in manifest fright. Speech deserted her. The power of motion fled and the shawl intended for Constance fell from her arm. She appeared paralyzed. Rutley softly closed the door behind him and locked it and put the key in his pocket. The dressing room door received the same attention. Then he turned to her. He was surprised to meet her, but observing the terror his presence inspired, he at once determined to force her to aid him to escape. He misjudged her character. For one moment he stood silently watching her. All the sharp intensity of his gaze concentrated on her frightened eyes; then he laughed low and gloatingly--"Ha, ha, ha. The girl that took on cold feet and betrayed her pal! I meant to say 'colleague,'" he corrected, with a sneer of apology. The smirk of his offensive stare and more offensive words irritated. She began to recover from her sudden fright and became immediately aware that her present situation required not only coolness but the most adroit handling. She accordingly nerved herself for the encounter. Again he leered at her, and continued in the same soft, guarded, but suave voice: "To be caught alone and in a trap with her intended victim is one of the dispensations of an inscrutable and just Providence."