The New Magdalen

"How long since?" Julian asked next.

"Not very long, sir."

"Be more particular. _How_ long?"

"I didn't hear, sir."

"Did the lodge-keeper's wife speak to the person when she saw her?"

"No, sir: she didn't get the chance, as I understand it. She is a stout

woman, if you remember. The other was too quick for her--discovered her,

sir, and (as the saying is) gave her the slip."

"In what part of the grounds did this happen?"

The servant pointed in the direction of the side hall. "In that part,

sir. Either in the Dutch garden or the shrubbery. I am not sure which."

It was plain, by this time, that the man's information was too imperfect

to be practically of any use. Julian asked if the lodge-keeper's wife

was in the house.

"No, sir. Her husband has gone out to search the grounds in her place,

and she is minding the gate. They sent their boy with the message. From

what I can make out from the lad, they would be thankful if they could

get a word more of advice from you, sir."

Julian reflected for a moment.

So far as he could estimate them, the probabilities were that the

stranger from Mannheim had already made her way into the house; that she

had been listening in the billiard-room; that she had found time enough

to escape him on his approaching to open the door; and that she was now

(in the servant's phrase) "somewhere in the grounds," after eluding the

pursuit of the lodgekeeper's wife.

The matter was serious. Any mistake in dealing with it might lead to

very painful results.

If Julian had correctly anticipated the nature of the confession which

Mercy had been on the point of addressing to him, the person whom he had

been the means of introducing into the house was--what she had vainly

asserted herself to be--no other than the true Grace Roseberry.

Taking this for granted, it was of the utmost importance that he should

speak to Grace privately, before she committed herself to any rashly

renewed assertion of her claims, and before she could gain access to

Lady Janet's adopted daughter. The landlady at her lodgings had already

warned him that the object which she held steadily in view was to find

her way to "Miss Roseberry" when Lady Janet was not present to take her

part, and when no gentleman were at hand to protect her. "Only let me

meet her face to face" (she had said), "and I will make her confess

herself the impostor that she is!" As matters now stood, it was

impossible to estimate too seriously the mischief which might ensue from

such a meeting as this. Everything now depended on Julian's skillful

management of an exasperated woman; and nobody, at that moment, knew

where the woman was.