"Don't be frightened," he said cheerfully, knowing how essential it was that she should not be startled into an exclamation which might betray her secret to the listening servants. "I heard from Dacre last night that you meant to meet Mr. Willard in New York, and I have reason to believe that you ought to depart by the first train. To do that, you must get away from the house in forty minutes. Can you manage it?" She came nearer, seeking the truth in his warning eyes, carrying a brave front before the maids, but with fear in her heart, because she and her lover had eaten of the forbidden fruit, and now they were as gods, knowing good and evil. "Mr. Dacre!" she repeated. "I suppose Mary Van Ralten told him what I said. But I don't quite understand. Why should I hurry my departure?" Nothing in this that anyone might hear and deem significant. Power laughed, as though her air of slight alarm had amused him. "Come into the veranda," he said. "You are not afraid of the morning air, and it is not on my conscience that I have robbed you of an hour's sleep, since you were up and around before I arrived." When they were alone, though shut off from inquisitive ears by wire-screen doors only, he said, in a low voice: "Don't say anything that will cause comment, but your father arrived at the Ocean House soon after midnight, and means to be here about nine o'clock. Our train leaves at seven. Will you use your own carriage, or shall I send a cab in half an hour? You will be ready, of course?" Nancy was not of that neurotic type of womankind which screams or faints in a crisis. "Y-yes," she murmured. "In less time, if you wish." "No need to rush things," he said coolly. "He is not to be called till eight. I heard him give the order." "You _heard_ him!" "Yes. Thanks to Dacre, when he arrived I was sitting in the veranda, well hidden, as it happened; so I planned to reach you this morning with a couple of hours in hand." "But, Derry, I have a note written, and ready for the post. I can't explain now----" "Put the note in your pocket, and deal with the new situation at leisure. There's only one thing I regret----" "Regret! Oh, Derry, what is it?" And again the shadow of fear darkened her eyes, eyes of that rare tint of Asiatic blue known as blende Kagoul, a blue darker at times than any other, and again, bright, dazzling, full of promise, rivaling the clear sky on a summer's night. "That I dare not take you in my arms and kiss you," he said. "You look uncommonly pretty in that negligée wrap." She blushed, and put up a hand to reassure herself lest her hair might be tumbling out of its coils. Then she ran to the screen doors and pushed them apart. "I can't wait another second," she said. "Please send that cab. Our own men will hardly be at the stables yet."