The piece of open ground was some seventy yards in width; he crossed it at speed and dived into the shadow of the trees, keeping close to the wall as he worked along. He reached the road without misadventure and dropped lightly down upon its stone-paved surface. It was cool and damp in this semi-subterranean causeway; the stone flagging was blotched with lichenous growth, and ferns flourished rankly in the wall crevices. Constans stood for a moment gazing up at the blank facade of the north wing, wondering how best to proceed. Then, suddenly, a face appeared at a window; Esmay herself was looking down upon him in wide-eyed astonishment. She hesitated, then motioned him towards the eastern or river side of the house, and he obeyed unquestioningly. Following the driveway around, he found himself before the pillared portico that masked the front of the main edifice; springing up the steps, he met her standing at one of the long windows that opened off the drawing-room of the mansion. She drew back, inviting him to enter. "You are very foolish," she said, in a whisper, yet looked upon him approvingly as a woman always must upon the man who dares. "I told you that I would come," he answered. "Yesterday it was the unexpected that happened, the return of the expedition. Between the storm and Ulick, you and the signal were clean put out of mind until too late." She flushed. "Then you have seen Ulick?" "Yes; he is safe and well." He hesitated. How should he tell her the truth about the other? He ended by blurting it out. "You know that Boris--he will not return." "He is dead?" Constans nodded. The girl turned and looked out of the window for perhaps half a minute. "I was to have decided between them this very day. He who is my master had so determined, and that is why I sent for you. For indeed I cannot----" She stopped; it was so difficult to put into words what must be said. Then she went on, speaking softly: "If it had finally come to that, I must have named Boris, for I could have gone on hating him just the same as before. With Ulick it is different, for he really cared." "But now," interrupted Constans, impatiently, "it is no longer a question of choice, but of a decision." "I have already come to it," she returned. "I must escape from Doom; I cannot stay here for even another day." In their absorption neither noticed how the door leading into the central hall slowly opened. It remained ajar, its very attitude that of a listener.