"Good evening, Mr. Glenarm!"
Marian Devereux's voice broke the silence, and Marian
Devereux's face, with the full light of the lantern
upon it, was bent gravely upon me. Her voice, as I
heard it there,-her face, as I saw it there,-are the
things that I shall remember last when my hour comes
to go hence from this world. The slim fingers, as they
clasped the wire screen of the lantern, held my gaze for
a second. The red tam-o'-shanter that I had associated
with her youth and beauty was tilted rakishly on one
side of her pretty head. To find her here, seeking, like
a thief in the night, for some means of helping Arthur
Pickering, was the bitterest drop in the cup. I felt as
though I had been struck with a bludgeon.
"I beg your pardon!" she said, and laughed. "There
doesn't seem to be anything to say, does there? Well,
we do certainly meet under the most unusual, not to say
unconventional, circumstances, Squire Glenarm. Please
go away or turn your back. I want to get out of this
donjon keep."
She took my hand coolly enough and stepped down
into the passage. Then I broke upon her stormily.
"You don't seem to understand the gravity of what
you are doing! Don't you know that you are risking
your life in crawling through this house at midnight?
-that even to serve Arthur Pickering, a life is a pretty
big thing to throw away? Your infatuation for that
blackguard seems to carry you far, Miss Devereux."
She swung the lantern at arm's length back and forth
so that its rays at every forward motion struck my face
like a blow.
"It isn't exactly pleasant in this cavern. Unless you
wish to turn me over to the lord high executioner, I will
bid you good night."
"But the infamy of this-of coming in here to spy
upon me-to help my enemy-the man who is seeking
plunder-doesn't seem to trouble you."
"No, not a particle!" she replied quietly, and then,
with an impudent fling, "Oh, no!" She held up the lantern
to look at the wick. "I'm really disappointed to
find that you were a little ahead of me, Squire Glenarm.
I didn't give you credit for so much-perseverance.
But if you have the notes-"
"The notes! He told you there were notes, did he?
The coward sent you here to find them, after his other
tools failed him?"
She laughed that low laugh of hers that was like the
bubble of a spring.
[Illustration: "I beg your pardon!" she said, and laughed.] "Of course no one would dare deny what the great
Squire Glenarm says," she said witheringly.
"You can't know what your perfidy means to me," I
said. "That night, at the Armstrongs', I thrilled at
the sight of you. As you came down the stairway I
thought of you as my good angel, and I belonged to you,
-all my life, the better future that I wished to make
for your sake."