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I longed to know the whereabouts of Muriel, hoping to gain from her some
information regarding their visitor who had so nearly escaped with his
life. That she was aware of the object of his visit was plain from the
statements of the servants, all of whom had been left without either
money or orders.
One day I called at the castle, the front entrance of which I found
closed. Gilrae, the owner, had come up from London, met his factor
there, and discharged all the late tenant's servants, keeping on only
three of his own who had been in service there for a number of years.
Ann Cameron, a housemaid, was one of these, and it was she whom I met
when entering by the servants' hall.
On questioning her, I found her most willing to describe how she was in
the corridor outside the young mistress's room when Mr. Leithcourt
dashed along in breathless haste with the telegram in his hand. She
heard him cry: "Look at this! Read it, Muriel. We must go. Put on your
things at once, my dear. Never mind about luggage.


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