“No, ma’am,” said he, in his respectful servant’s manner; “but I should say that he is on his way to America by now, where he meant to have taken you.” “Me? America?” “Yes, ma’am. Miss Haidee was to have been left at Liverpool Street Station, and brought back to the Alders.” “But I wouldn’t have gone.” “I beg your pardon, ma’am; but I don’t think your will would have stood out against James’s--Mr. Rayner’s. And, if this letter had not shown you to be loyal to him, I would not have left you here alive. I am surprised myself, knowing how set he was upon having your company, that he did not come back and carry you off with him. But I suppose he thought better of it, begging your pardon, ma’am. I may take this opportunity of apologizing for having once borrowed a trinket of yours while you were staying at Denham Court. But, as it was one which I myself had had the pleasure of assisting Mr. Rayner to procure from Lord Dalston’s, I thought it wisest to pull off the little plate at the back, for fear of its being recognized by Mr. Carruthers, in whose service I was when I was first introduced to Lord Dalston’s seat in Derbyshire.” “My pendant!” I cried. “It--it was real then?” “Yes, ma’am. I had to remonstrate then with Mr. Rayner for his rashness in giving it you; but nothing ever went wrong with him--daring as he is--till you came across his path, ma’am. He was too tender-hearted. If I did not feel sure that he is by this time on the high-road to fresh successes in the New World, I would shoot you dead this instant without a moment’s compunction.” I shuddered, glancing at his hands, which were slim and small, like those of a man who has never done rough work. I saw that he had got rid of his handcuffs. “I have nothing to keep me here now, ma’am; so I shall be off to-night: and, if you care to hear how I get on, you will be able to do so by applying to my late master, Mr. Carruthers.” He led me courteously to the door, bowed me out, and shut himself in again, while I went on, trembling and bewildered, towards Mrs. Rayner’s room. I knocked at the door. At first there was no answer. I called her by name, and begged her to let me in. At last I heard her voice close to the other side of the door. “What do you want, Miss Christie?” “May I come in, Mrs. Rayner? I have something to tell you.” “I can’t let you in. Can you speak through the door?” “No, no; I must see you. I have something very important to say about Mr. Rayner,” I whispered into the key-hole. “Is he here?” she faltered. “No; he has gone to America,” I whispered. She gave a long shuddering sigh, and then said-- “I--I will let you in.” She turned the key slowly, while I trembled with impatience outside the door.