My sister was not so well, and so stayed in bed to-day." He moved towards the stairs with the words; but ere he reached them there came the sound of a sudden commotion on the corridor above, and a wailing voice made itself heard.
"Miss Isabel! Miss Isabel! Wherever are you, mavourneen?
Ah, what'll I do at all?
Miss Isabel's gone!" Old Biddy in her huge white apron and mob cap appeared at the top of the staircase and came hobbling down with skinny hands extended.
"Ah, Master Scott--Master Scott--may the saints help us! She's gone! She's gone! And meself sleeping like a hog the whole afternoon through! I'll never forgive meself, Master Scott,--never, never! Oh, what'll I do?
I pray the Almighty will take my life before any harm comes to her!" She reached Scott at the foot of the stairs and caught his hand hysterically between her own.
Sir Eustace strode forward, white to the lips.

"Stop your clatter, woman, and answer me! How did Miss Isabel get away?
Is she dressed ?" The old woman cowered back from the blazing wrath in his eyes.

"Yes, your honour! No, your honour! I mean--Yes, your honour!" she stammered, still clinging pathetically to Scott.

"I was asleep, ye see.

I never knew--I never knew!" "How long did you sleep ?" demanded Sir Eustace.
"And how am I to tell at all ?" wailed Biddy.