But there was no sign from her. It was in this state that Mark McCloskey caught her. The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them. A third that joined this to the chambers at the front of the house. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. ’ ‘That’s better. "What has delayed you?" demanded the knight impatiently. Now, more than ever, it was time to start running.
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