Shortly before the ringing of the dinner-bell Rosamund knocked at Beauchamp's dressing-room door, the bearer of a telegram from Bevisham.
He read it in one swift run of the eyes, and said: 'Come in, ma'am, I have something for you. Madame de Rouaillout sends you this.'
Rosamund saw her name written in a French hand on the back of the card.
'You stay with us, Nevil?'
'To-night and to-morrow, perhaps. The danger seems to be over.'
'Has Dr. Shrapnel been in danger?'
'He has. If it's quite over now!'
'I declare to you, Nevil . . .'
'Listen to me, ma'am; I'm in the dark about this murderous business:—an old man, defenceless, harmless as a child!—but I know this, that you are somewhere in it.'
'Nevil, do you not guess at some one else?'