The coach called at Sea View.  Mrs. Lecount saw her master established in his place, and ascertained that the other three inside seats were already occupied by strangers.  She inquired of the coachman if the outside places (all of which were not yet filled up) had their full complement of passengers also.  The man replied in the affirmative.  He had two gentlemen to call for in the town, and the others would take their places at the inn.  Mrs. Lecount forthwith turned her steps toward the inn, and took up her position on the Parade opposite from a point of view which would enable her to see the last of the coach on its departure.  In ten minutes more it rattled away, full outside and in; and the housekeeper’s own eyes assured her that neither Mr. Bygrave himself, nor any one belonging to North Shingles, was among the passengers.

There was only one more precaution to take, and Mrs. Lecount did not neglect it.  Mr. Bygrave had doubtless seen the coach call at Sea View.  He might hire a carriage and follow it to the railway on pure speculation.  Mrs. Lecount remained within view of the inn (the only place at which a carriage could be obtained) for nearly an hour longer, waiting for events.  Nothing happened; no carriage made its appearance; no pursuit of Noel Vanstone was now within the range of human possibility.  The long strain on Mrs. Lecount’s mind relaxed at last.  She left her seat on the Parade, and returned in higher spirits than usual, to perform the closing household ceremonies at Sea View.

She sat down alone in the parlor and drew a long breath of relief.  Captain Wragge’s calculations had not deceived him.  The evidence of her own senses had at last conquered the housekeeper’s incredulity, and had literally forced her into the opposite extreme of belief.

Estimating the events of the last three days from her own experience of them; knowing (as she certainly knew) that the first idea of going to St. Crux had been started by herself, and that her master had found no opportunity and shown no inclination to inform the family at North Shingles that he had accepted her proposal, Mrs. Lecount was fairly compelled to acknowledge that not a fragment of foundation remained to justify the continued suspicion of treachery in her own mind.  Looking at the succession of circumstances under the new light thrown on them by results, she could see nothing unaccountable, nothing contradictory anywhere.  The attempt to pass off the forged pictures as originals was in perfect harmony with the character of such a man as Mr. Bygrave.  Her master’s indignation at the attempt to impose on him; his plainly-expressed suspicion that Miss Bygrave was privy to it; his disappointment in the niece; his contemptuous treatment of the uncle on the Parade; his weariness of the place which had been the scene of his rash intimacy with strangers, and his readiness to quit it that morning, all commended themselves as genuine realities to the housekeeper’s mind, for one sufficient reason.  Her own eyes had seen Noel Vanstone take his departure from Aldborough without leaving, or attempting to leave, a single trace behind him for the Bygraves to follow.