"Confound her! she's gone. May! hist!--May!--Don't leave me like this!" He felt about for the door, but could not find it in his dread and confusion. Only one part of the room could he make out, and that was the window, by which flight was impossible without being seen. "Little wretch!" he muttered. "What a fool I am! Where is the cursed door? There were three here somewhere. What the devil am I to do? Curse--" He kicked against a chair, and nearly knocked it over, and then stumbled against a couch. "The door must be here somewhere," he muttered. "Yes, there." It was plain enough where the door was now, for a light shone beneath it, and the sides looked light, showing its shape, just as another peal came from knocker and bell. He had just time to drop down behind the sofa when the door opened, and the Master of the Ceremonies appeared in his long dressing-gown, candle in hand, crossed the drawing-room, and, opening the farther door, went through, and it swung to, leaving the intruder once more in darkness. He started up again as he heard the rattle of locks and bolts below, and made for the window, meaning to escape by it as soon as those who had alarmed the house had entered. "Curse him! Mellersh left to watch," he muttered, as voices were heard from below--loud and angry voices--mingled with those of remonstrance. "I tell you we saw a man climb up and enter by the balcony," came up; and in his alarm and horror the intruder knocked over an ornament now, as he made for the door that led to the bedrooms--his last chance of escaping unseen. "Ah, there she is," he said beneath his breath, as the door was made visible once more by the rays of light all round. "Come up, then, and I will search the place," came from below. "Don't be alarmed: I'm going to see," said a voice outside the door leading to the upper staircase; and the next moment the door opened, and Claire, in her white dressing-gown, entered candle in hand. "Sir Harry Payne!" she cried, as the light fell on the figure of the visitor. "Hush! For heaven's sake, quick! Hide me somewhere. Quick! Before it is too late." He had caught her by the arm and laid one hand upon her lips; and as she was trying to release herself, the other door opened, and Denville entered, closely followed by Frank Burnett and Richard Linnell. "Claire! Sir Harry Payne!" cried the Master of the Ceremonies. "Oh, that's it, is it?" said Burnett, with a grin. "No murder this time, except reputation. I had made up my mind to come and stop to-night, as my wife's here; but, after this, the sooner she's out of this place the better. Here, call her, some of you. Where's her room?" Claire did not speak, but stood there, as if turned to stone, her eyes fixed upon the cold, stern face of Richard Linnell, as he stood back by the door. "Sir Harry Payne, speak, I insist," cried Denville fiercely. "What does this mean?"