"Now we can go," I said, and switched off the light.

She led the way down the stairs without replying.

"My hat is in the library," I said, as we reached the foot, and I turned down the lower hall.

The library was even darker than the room upstairs had been, for the trees around the house seemed to shadow especially the windows of this wing. I noted how the windows extended to the floor and opened upon a little balcony. One of the windows was open, and I went to it and looked out. A flight of steps connected one end of the balcony with the ground, and I fancied from the steps I could discern a faint path running away among the trees.

A convulsive sob at the door brought me around. It was the maid, who had entered and was glaring at me with a face to which the growing darkness gave an added repulsiveness. The sob, which had more of anger than of sorrow in it, had burst from her involuntarily, called forth, no doubt, by her inability to hinder me in my investigations, to show me the door, to kick me out. I could see her growing hatred of me in her eyes, in the grip of the hands she pressed against her bosom; and a certain reciprocal anger arose within me.

"Here is a handkerchief of your mistress," I said, plunging my hand into my pocket and drawing forth the square of lace. "Please return it to her wardrobe. It's valuable," I added, with a sudden burst of inspiration; "especially so, since it's her bridal handkerchief."

The shot told. She took the handkerchief with a hand that shook convulsively, and I determined to risk a second guess.

"She left it here," I said. "She left it here when she went out by yonder window and ran through the grove. Shall I tell you where she went? But you know!"

"I do not!" burst from her. "It's a lie!"

"You know," I repeated remorselessly. "You followed her there. It was there she wrote that note which you brought back with you and which you found on her dresser."

"No, no!" The words were two sobs rather than two articulate sounds.

"Don't lie to me! If the note was written here, why did she use a writing-paper different from her own? You're playing with fire! Take care that it doesn't burn you!"

But I had touched the wrong note.

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