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All was quiet, and there was no sign of life in the closely shuttered house. The snow in this exposed and sunny enclosure had entirely disappeared; there would be no fear of his footprints being noticed. The dogs but Esmay had assured him that they would be kept in leash so long as the signal was flying. He wasted no further time in reflection, but descended into Quinton Edge's garden.
It was a region of tenement dwellings, a huddle of nondescript buildings, flanked by huge factories and sprawling coal and lumber yards an unpromising region, surely, in which to look for Master Quinton Edge's particular retreat. And yet it would have marked the subtlety of the man to have set his secret here, where it would have been at once so easily seen and overlooked.
"There was a mistake or rather a fraud about the date of Sir Randolph Edge's death; his brother knew it. I'll tell you the details if you like. But that's the end and the sum of it. As to why he didn't tell er his wife sooner, perhaps you know better than I." "Yes, I know that," she said. And then it was most inconsiderate, most painful to Mr Neeld she began to cry.
The steel bit deep into the white flesh, and with a little, shuddering cry the girl sank to the floor; out leaped Quinton Edge's sword. Constans, supporting his mother, felt her hand grow cold in his. He laid her gently down upon a convenient settle and thanked God that she, too, was safe.
"It's just as well that I kept my tongue between my teeth and concluded not to mind Quinton Edge's business." He closed the door. It had grown quite dark, and the fire was making its last stand for life.
But he took no account of these smaller things, his eyes being full of Esmay only, and surely that was she who stood there in the shelter of Quinton Edge's arms; now she half turned her head, the better to look into her lord's face, and Constans could trace the outline of her profile the upper lip, so deliciously short, and the exquisite curve of her throat.
As the two girls stood watching it, they heard a window flung up sharply, and Quinton Edge's voice calling to Old Kurt and bidding him saddle a horse with all speed. Nanna's eyes glowed. "It is something big," she said, excitedly, and began scrambling into her masculine attire. "Something that is worth our while to know all about," she continued. "But, Nanna " began Esmay, doubtfully.
But Constans's brow was clouded as he followed in Quinton Edge's footsteps. Arcadia House, and why? There could be but one answer to that question after Nanna's message, conveyed to him through Ulick's dying lips. Esmay had disappeared, and yet had remained in Arcadia House. He, who knew Quinton Edge, would understand. Constans told himself grimly that he did understand.
"This for the thirty lashes at Middenmass!" he shouted; "and this " But here Constans's rapier passed through his throat, and he fell back, gurgling horribly and tearing at his windpipe. It had all happened so quickly that the two living men could only stare alternately at each other and at the burden that lay in Quinton Edge's arms.
"She is here in the city a prisoner " Her voice shook and failed her. "But what can we do?" asked the young man. "You do not even know in Quinton Edge's house, you say? But that is a mile or more away, and the road is already blocked. It is impossible."
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