"That Mr. Pyecroft--" Words failed her. "I've simply got to get out of this somehow!" "Of course, ma'am. But--but our changes haven't helped us much yet. If we tried to leave the house, that Mr. Pyecroft might follow and we might find ourselves even in a worse way than we are, ma'am." "Nothing can be worse than this!" "I'm not so sure, ma'am," tremulously doubted Matilda. "We never dreamed anything could be so bad as this, but here this is." There was a vague logic in what Matilda said; but logic none the less. Unbelievable, and yet so horribly actual as this was,--was what had thus far happened only the _legato_ and _pianissimo_ passages of their adventure, with _crescendo_ and _fortissimo_ still ahead? Mrs. De Peyster closed her eyes, and did not speak. She strove to regain some command over her routed faculties. Matilda waited. Presently Mrs. De Peyster's eyes opened. "It would be some relief"--weak hope was in her voice--"if only I could manage to get down into my own suite." "But, ma'am, with that Mr. Pyecroft--" "He's a risk we've got to run," Mrs. De Peyster cried desperately. "We've somehow got to manage to get me there without his knowing it." Suddenly she sat up. The hope that a moment before had shone faintly in her face began to become a more confident glow. Matilda saw that her mistress was thinking; therefore she remained silent, expectant. "Matilda, I think there's a chance!" Mrs. De Peyster exclaimed after a moment. "I'll get into my suite--I'll live there quiet as death. Since they believe the suite empty, since they know it is locked, they may never suspect any one is in it. Matilda, it's the only way!" "Yes--but, ma'am, how am I to explain your sudden disappearance?" "Say that your sister became homesick," said Mrs. De Peyster with mounting hope, "and decided suddenly, in the middle of the night, to return at once to her home in Syracuse." "That may satisfy all but Mr. Pyecroft, ma'am. But Mr. Pyecroft won't believe it." "Mr. Pyecroft will have to believe whatever he likes. It's the only way, and we're going to do it. And do it at once! Matilda, go down and see if they're all asleep yet, particularly Mr. Pyecroft." Matilda took off her shoes and in her stocking-feet went scouting forth; and stocking-footed presently returned, with the news that all seemed asleep, particularly Mr. Pyecroft. Five minutes later, in Matilda's dress, and likewise in stocking-feet, Mrs. De Peyster stepped out of her second maid's room. Breathless, she listened. Not a sound. Then, Matilda at her heels, she began to creep down the stairway--slowly--slowly--putting each foot down with the softness of a closing lip--pausing with straining ears on every tread. With up-pressing feet she glided by the door within which Mr. Pyecroft lay in untroubled sleep, then started by the room that homed Jack and Mary, creeping with the footsteps of a disembodied spirit, fearful every second lest some door might spring open and wild alarms ring out.