Page:The Black Moth.pdf/312

 “By God, it is too late!” he swore. “You had best give in, madam—nought can avail you now.”

And then the unexpected happened. Even as in her last desperate effort to free herself she moaned the name of him whom she deemed hundreds of miles away across the sea, a crisp voice, vibrating with a species of cold fury, sounded directly behind them.

“You delude yourself, Belmanoir,” it said with deadly quiet.

With an oath Tracy released the girl and wheeled to face the intruder.

Framed by the dark curtains, drawn sword in hand, murder in his blue eyes, stood my lord.

Tracy’s snarl died slowly away as he stared, and a look of blank amazement took its place.

Diana, almost unable to believe her eyes, dizzy with the suddenness of it all, stumbled blindly towards him, crying:

“Thank God! Thank God! Oh, Jack!”

He caught her in his arms, drawing her gently to the couch.

“Dear heart, you never doubted I should come?”

“I thought you in France!” she sobbed, and sank down amongst the cushions.

Carstares turned to meet his Grace.

Tracy had recovered from the first shock of surprise and was eyeing him though his quizzing glass.

“This is an unexpected pleasure, my lord,” he drawled with easy insolence.

Diana started at the mode of address and looked up at Carstares, bewildered.

“I perceive your sword in the corner behind you, your Grace!” snapped Jack, and flung over to the door, twisting the key round in the lock and slipping it into his breeches pocket.

To Diana he was as a stranger, with no laugh in the glittering blue eyes, and none of the almost finicking politeness that usually characterised his bearing. He