Considerably perturbed, Vera hesitated, but only for a moment; then she sped after Millicent. Mrs. Porter was on guard in the sick room, and she had sent her to look after her daughter. If Millicent, in a moment of delirium perhaps, attempted to walk abroad at that hour of the night she must be reasoned with and stopped. Vera’s disturbed ideas took form as she dashed downstairs, the sound of her approach deadened by her rubber-soled shoes. She was halfway down the circular staircase when she saw Millicent fumbling with the lock, by aid of the moonlight streaming through the fanlight over the side door. The clang of the night chain when Millicent unhooked it drowned Vera’s low-voiced call, and, snatching up a small bundle which she had placed on a console, Millicent darted out into the night. Her foot turned just as she was about to descend the few steps leading to the graveled path, and only her outflung hand saved her from a nasty fall. Recovering herself and never glancing behind her, she hastened up the path, being careful, however, to tread only on the turf. Vera, unmindful of the chill wind and her coatless condition, paused only long enough to close the door, then hurried after Millicent. She had taken but a few steps beyond the house when her foot struck against something which whizzed ahead of her, and she caught the glint of moonlight on metal. Catching up with the small object, she stooped over and picked it up. It was a razor. Vera’s heart beat with suffocating rapidity as she tore ahead. What fresh tragedy was impending? To her dismay she saw Millicent was gaining ground. What use to call--no one was near--and she needed every ounce of breath to overtake the flying figure. Millicent kept a fairly straight course, then, darting among a clump of laurel bushes, disappeared from view, but only for a moment, as Vera, circling the bushes, caught sight of her cutting across fields toward Thornedale, but instead of continuing her approach to the low, rambling hunting lodge, she doubled on her tracks and half slid down a steep embankment. Vera, hampered by her unfamiliarity with the ground, was some minutes later in reaching the top of the embankment, and she halted abruptly on seeing Millicent, no sign of her recent haste discernible, seated at the bottom of the embankment, apparently resting at her ease. Shifting clouds temporarily obscured the moon, and Vera waited expectantly before attempting the descent, dropping to her knees behind a cluster of shrubs as she decided to call and ask Millicent to wait for her. But her intentions received a check as a figure turned the corner of the winding highway, and a voice addressed Millicent. “Who is here?” The next instant an electric pocket torch played across her face, then flickered out as Hugh Wyndham exclaimed in deep astonishment, “Millicent!” His cousin threw out her hand as if to ward off the censure she felt coming.