She was quite glad when George had to go back to Sandhurst, as, although she was aware that Minnie watched and noted as well in her brother’s absence as if he had been there, still there was now no one with whom she could exchange her stealthy little looks, and that, Rhoda felt, was a relief. When Jack came back in the following week, Lady Sarah seemed to wake up into life again, as The Terrors had said. Sir Robert, too, took as much pleasure as before in his society, and enjoyed it as guilelessly as ever. It was on the second night after Jack Rotherfield’s arrival at the Mill-house that Rhoda, who always slept with her window open and the curtains drawn back, woke up about one o’clock and fancied that she saw a moving light in the garden. At first not more than half awake, she watched the glimmer vaguely, without even wondering what it was. Then, her drowsiness suddenly yielding to complete wakefulness, she sat up in bed and looked out. Yes. There certainly was an unusual light in the garden, and crossing the floor quickly, she saw that it was the reflection of some unseen light that she saw flickering on the grass by the side of the water. At first she was rather alarmed, thinking that there might be a policeman with his lantern in the grounds, and that some one might have got in for an unlawful purpose. There had been, at various times, small thefts discovered of plants and fruit from the grounds, which were extensive and in some parts easy of access from outside. But then a fresh thought struck her. The wing containing the long gallery, which housed Sir Robert’s collection, extended northwards to some distance from the main building, and was screened from her sight by shrubs and trees. It now occurred to Rhoda that the light she saw might be reflected through the windows of the gallery, and the horrible fear flashed through her mind that the building might be on fire. After watching for some moments, however, she decided that the light was too steady, and again it occurred to her to wonder whether any unauthorised person had got inside. Now that Sir Robert kept both sets of keys himself, she was free from responsibility, but her interest in the collection being as strong as ever, she could not rest until she had ascertained the meaning of the light. Hastily dressing, with her eyes always keenly watching, she slipped out of her room and down the stairs. Half way down she stopped, clammy and cold, with a sudden sickly recollection of the night, ten years before, when she had glided down the stairs in similar fashion. For the moment memory rose up so strong within her, that she could almost have fancied she heard again the struggle going on in the drawing-room, and that she saw once more, in the moonlight, the blood-stained hand which she now knew to have been that of Jack Rotherfield.