Full of vague alarm, blent with a little trembling hope of she knew not what, Bonnibel ran to the window, which was fortunately not fastened down, pushed up the sash and peered down into the night. The moon had not fully risen yet, and there was but a faint light in the clear sky, but down in the dark shrubbery below she fancied she could see a human form and a white face upturned to the window.
Yes, she was right. In a moment a low and cautious, but perfectly audible voice, floated up to her ears.
"Oh! my dear Miss Bonnibel," was what it said, "is that you?"
Bonnibel put her hand to her heart as if the shock of joy were too great to be borne.
It was the voice of the poor girl over whose unknown fate her heart had ached for many weary days—the welcome voice of faithful Lucy Moore.
"Yes, it is Bonnibel," she murmured gently back, fearing that her voice might be heard by Dolores Dupont, who slept on a couch in the dressing-room to be near her mistress.
"Are you alone?" inquired Lucy, softly.
"Yes, quite alone," was answered back.
"Miss Bonnibel, I have a rope-ladder down here. I am going to throw it up to you. Try and catch it, and fasten it to your window strongly enough for me to climb up to you."
Bonnibel leaned forward silently. A twisted bundle was skillfully thrown up, and she caught it in her hands. Stepping back into the room she uncoiled a light yet strong ladder of silken rope.
"Fasten it into the hooks that are used to secure the window-shutters," said Lucy's voice from below.
Trembling with joy, Bonnibel fastened the ends strongly as directed, and threw the rope down to Lucy. In a few moments the girl had climbed up to the window, sprang over the sill, and had her young mistress in her arms.
"One kiss, you darling!" she said, in a voice of ecstasy, "then I must pull up the rope, for I fear discovery, and I have much to tell you before I take you away with me!"
Bonnibel's heart gave a quick bound of joy.
"Oh! Lucy, will you really take me away?" she exclaimed, pressing the girl's hand fondly.
"That's what I am here for," answered Lucy, withdrawing her mistress into the darkest corner of the room, after having drawn her rope up and dropped the curtains over the coil as it lay upon the floor.
"Lucy, how did you ever find me?" exclaimed Bonnibel, gladly, as they sat down together on a low divan, mutually forgetting the difference in their position as mistress and maid in the joy of their re-union.
"I've never lost track of you, Miss Bonnibel, since the night your husband turned me into the cold, dark street."
"Cruel!" muttered Bonnibel, with a shudder.
"Yes, it was cruel," said Lucy, "but I didn't spend the night in the streets! Pierre, the hall-servant, let me in again unbeknownst to Colonel Carlyle, and I slept in my old room that night, though I couldn't get to speak to you because he had locked you into your room and kept the key. At daylight I went away and secured a lodging near you—you know I had plenty of money, Miss Bonnibel, because you were always very generous! That evening when Colonel Carlyle took you away, along with that hateful furrin maid, I followed after, you may be sure, and I've been in Naples ever since trying to get speech of you; but though I've tried bribery, and corruption, and cunning, too, I've always failed until to-night."
She paused to take breath, and Bonnibel silently pressed her hand.
"So there's the whole story in a nutshell," continued Lucy, after a minute; "I ain't got time to spin it out, for you and me, Miss Bonnibel, has to get away from here as quick as ever we can! Do you think you can climb down my ladder of rope?"
Bonnibel smiled at the anxious tone of the girl's question.
"Of course I can, Lucy," she said, confidently, "I wish there were nothing harder in life than that."
"Miss Bonnibel," said the girl, in a low voice, "we must be going in a minute or two, now. Can you get a dark suit to put on? And have you any money you can take with you? For it will take more money than I have in my purse, perhaps, to carry us home to New York."
"To New York—are we going back there?" faltered the listener.
"As fast as wind and water can carry us!" answered the girl. "You and me are needed there in a hurry, my darling mistress. At least you are, for I feel almost sure that a man's life is hanging on your evidence."
"Lucy, what can you mean?" exclaimed Bonnibel, in amazement.
"Ah! I see they have told you nothing!" answered Lucy.
Bonnibel caught her arm and looked anxiously into her face.
"No one has told me anything," she said. "What should they have told me?"
"Much that you never knew, perhaps," said the girl, shaking her head gravely.
"Then tell it me yourself," said Bonnibel. "Do not keep me in suspense, my good girl."
"May I ask you a question first, Miss Bonnibel?"
"As many as you please, Lucy!"
"You remember the night poor old master was murdered?" said the girl, as if reluctant to recall that painful subject.
"As if I could ever forget it," shuddered the listener.
"You were down at the shore until late that night," pursued the girl, "and when you got back you found your uncle dead—murdered! Miss Bonnibel, was Mr. Dane with you that night on the sands? I have sometimes been athinkin' he might a been."
"Lucy, what are you trying to get at?" gasped the listener.
"I only asked you the question," said Lucy, humbly.
"And I cannot understand why you ask it, Lucy, but I will answer it truly. Leslie Dane was with me every moment of the time."
"I thought so," said Lucy, fervently. "Thank God!"
"Lucy, please explain yourself," said Bonnibel anxiously. "You frighten me with your mysterious looks and words. What has gone wrong?"
"I am going to tell you as fast as I can, my dear young mistress. Try and bear it as bravely as you can, for you must go back to America to right a great wrong."
"A great wrong!" repeated the listener, helplessly.
"You were so sick after Mr. Arnold died," said Lucy, continuing her story, "that the doctors kept the papers and all the news that was afloatin' around, away from you; so it happened that we never let you know that your friend, Mr. Leslie Dane, was charged with the murder of your uncle."
There was a minute's shocked silence; then, with a smothered moan of horror, Bonnibel slid from her place and fell on the floor in a helpless heap at Lucy's feet.
"Oh! Miss Bonnibel, rouse yourself—oh, for God's sake don't you faint! Oh, me! oh, me! what a born fool I was to tell you that before I got you away from this place!" cried Lucy in terror, kneeling and lifting the drooping head upon her arm.
"Oh! Miss Bonnibel, please don't you faint now!" she reiterated, taking a bottle of smelling salts from her pocket and applying it to the young lady's nostrils.
Thus vehemently adjured, Bonnibel opened her blue eyes and looked up into the troubled face of her attendant.
"We have got to be going now," urged the girl, "you must keep all your strength to get away from here."
"I will," said Bonnibel, struggling to a sitting posture in Lucy's supporting arms. "I am quite strong, Lucy, I shall not faint, I give you my word, I will not! Go on with your story!"
"I mustn't—you can't stand it," answered the girl, hesitating.
"Go on," Bonnibel said, with a certain little authoritative ring in her voice that Lucy had always been wont to obey.
"If I must then," said Lucy, reluctantly, "but there's but little more to tell. Mr. Dane got away and they never caught him till the night of your grand masquerade ball when Colonel Carlyle recognized him. The next day he had him arrested and put in a French prison on the charge of murder."
"And now?" asked Bonnibel, in horror-struck accents.
"And they all sailed for the United States more than two weeks ago," answered Lucy, sadly. "Mr. Dane to his trial, and Colonel Carlyle, Mrs. Arnold and Miss Felise Herbert to testify against him."
"More than two weeks ago," repeated Bonnibel like one dazed.
"I heard some men talking about it," Lucy went on, "and they said that if Mr. Dane couldn't prove his absence at the time of the murder he would certainly get hung."
A moan was Bonnibel's only response.
"So you see, my dear young mistress, that his only chance rests on your evidence, and we must start right away if we are to get there to save him!"
Bonnibel sprang to her feet, trembling all over.
"Let us go this moment," she said, feverishly; "oh, what if we should be too late!"
Wild with horror she set about her preparations. Her one thought now was to save Leslie Dane though the whole world should know the shameful secret she tried so hard to keep from its knowledge.