“We don’t dare keep him out,” breathed Mrs. De Peyster.

Matilda admitted him.  Even in the semi-darkness of the room, due to the green shutters being closed, Mrs. De Peyster could see that he was admirably transformed from the raven Mr. Pyecroft of the night before.  He had on a gray modish suit, with lavender tie and socks to match; and looked natty and young and spirited and quite prepared for anything.

“Good morning, sisters,” he greeted them pleasantly.  “I see you are admiring my new spring outfit.  Not at all bad, is it?” He turned slowly about, for their better observation; then grinned and lowered his voice:  “It’s young De Peyster’s; found it in his room, and helped myself.  Burned my clergyman’s outfit in the kitchen range before any one was up; best to leave no clues lying around.”

He, too, had come to talk plans, and quickly Mr. Pyecroft settled them.  This was a dangerous place for him, with Judge Harvey coming and going; but to stay here was a safer risk than to venture forth until the hue and cry of the police had quieted.  It was a dangerous place also for his dear sister Angelica, but if on the plea of indisposition she would stay in this dusky room and would keep her disfigured face hidden when any member of the household chanced to come in (they would all understand, and sympathize with, her painful diffidence), why, there was an excellent chance of her pulling through without discovery.  It was obvious that they dared not keep out Jack and Mary, and perhaps Judge Harvey, should these be inspired to make friendly calls.  To forbid their visits would arouse suspicion.  And if it were said Angelica was too ill to see any one, then they would demand that a doctor be called in—­and a doctor would mean exposure.  Their visits must be permitted; no doubt of that; but if dear Angelica were only careful, extremely careful, and kept her head, all would go well.

Yes, summarized Mr. Pyecroft, the best plan for them was to remain here for the present.  Then when the safe and appropriate moment arrived, they could make their get-away.

From quite other reasons, Mrs. De Peyster accepted this plan.  After the strain of the past week, particularly after the wild emotional oscillations of the preceding night, she wished just to lie there in the dusk, and breathe—­and breathe—­and breathe some more—­and recover life.

Matilda suggested that she bring up breakfast for Mrs. De Peyster, and Mr. Pyecroft begged her to discover and set out something below for him, for his stomach was a torturing vacuum.  Matilda went down, leaving Mr. Pyecroft behind in the room, discussing further details of their immediate campaign; and presently she returned, trembling, with a tray, Jack and Mary just behind her.  Mrs. De Peyster did not need to be prompted to turn her face toward the wall, and into the deeper shadow that there prevailed.  Mr. Pyecroft casually sat down upon the bed near its head, making an excellent further screen.