She forced herself to smile.  “You are a preposterous person, Charles Rex,” she said.  “Yes, let us go!”

She turned with him towards the panelling, but she did not see by what trick he opened again the door by which they had entered.  She only saw, with a wild leap of the heart, Dick Green, upright, virile, standing against the dark hangings of the passage beyond.

CHAPTER IV

KISMET

He was breathing hard, as if he had been hurrying.  He spoke to her exclusively, ignoring the man at her side.

“Will you come at once?  Mrs. Fielding has been taken ill.”

She started forward.  “Dick!  Where is she?”

“Downstairs.”  Briefly he answered her.  “She collapsed in one of the tents.  They brought her into the house.  She is in the library.”

Juliet hastened along the passage.  Like Dick, she seemed no longer aware of Saltash’s presence.  He came behind, a speculative expression on his ugly face.

“Let me go first!” Dick said, as they reached the head of the winding stairs.

Juliet gave place to him without a word.  They descended rapidly.

At the foot the door stood open to the terrace.  They came again into the blazing sunshine, and here Juliet paused and looked back at Saltash.

He came to her side.  “Don’t look so alarmed!  It’s probably only the heat.  Do you know the way to the library?  Through that conservatory over there is the shortest cut.  I suppose I may come with you?  I may be of use.”

“Of course!” said Juliet.  “Thank you very much.”

Dick barely glanced over his shoulder.  He was already on his way.

They entered the Castle again by the conservatory that Saltash had indicated.  It was a mass of flowers, but the public were evidently not admitted here, for it was empty.  In the centre a nymph hung over a marble basin under a tinkling fountain.  They passed quickly by to an open glass door that led into the house.  Here Dick stopped and drew back, looking at Juliet.

“I will wait here,” he said.

She nodded and went swiftly past him into the room.

It was a dark apartment, book-lined, chill of atmosphere, with heavy, ancient furniture, and a sense of solitude more suggestive of some monastic dwelling than any ordinary habitation.  The floor was of polished oak that shone with a sombre lustre.

Juliet paused for a moment involuntarily upon entering.  It was as if a sinister hand had been laid upon her, arresting her.  The gloom blinded her after the hot radiance outside.  Then a voice—­Fielding’s voice—­spoke to her, and she went forward gropingly.

He met her, took her urgently by the shoulder.  “Thank heaven, you’re here at last!” he said.

Looking at him, she saw him as a man suddenly stricken with age.  His face was grey.  He led her to a settee by the high oak fireplace, and there—­white, inanimate as a waxen figure—­she found Vera Fielding.