No letters came that morning.  Toward noon the weather changed for the worse, and all idea of walking out as usual was abandoned.  Hour after hour, while her master sat in one of the parlors, Mrs. Lecount kept watch in the other, with the door into the passage open, and with a full view of North Shingles through the convenient side-window at which she had established herself.  Not a sign that was suspicious appeared, not a sound that was suspicious caught her ear.  As the evening closed in, her master’s hesitation came to an end.  He was disgusted with the weather; he hated the place; he foresaw the annoyance of more meetings with Mr. Bygrave, and he was determined to go to St. Crux the first thing the next morning.  Lecount could stay behind to pack up the curiosities and settle with the trades-people, and could follow him to the admiral’s on the next day.  The housekeeper was a little staggered by the tone and manner in which he gave these orders.  He had, to her own certain knowledge, effected no communication of any sort with North Shingles, and yet he seemed determined to leave Aldborough at the earliest possible opportunity.  For the first time she hesitated in her adherence to her own conclusions.  She remembered that her master had complained of the Bygraves before they returned to Aldborough; and she was conscious that her own incredulity had once already misled her when the appearance of the traveling-carriage at the door had proved even Mr. Bygrave himself to be as good as his word.

Still Mrs. Lecount determined to act with unrelenting caution to the last.  That night, when the doors were closed, she privately removed the keys from the door in front and the door at the back.  She then softly opened her bedroom window and sat down by it, with her bonnet and cloak on, to prevent her taking cold.  Noel Vanstone’s window was on the same side of the house as her own.  If any one came in the dark to speak to him from the garden beneath, they would speak to his housekeeper as well.  Prepared at all points to intercept every form of clandestine communication which stratagem could invent, Mrs. Lecount watched through the quiet night.  When morning came, she stole downstairs before the servant was up, restored the keys to their places, and re-occupied her position in the parlor until Noel Vanstone made his appearance at the breakfast-table.  Had he altered his mind?  No.  He declined posting to the railway on account of the expense, but he was as firm as ever in his resolution to go to St. Crux.  He desired that an inside place might be secured for him in the early coach.  Suspicious to the last, Mrs. Lecount sent the baker’s man to take the place.  He was a public servant, and Mr. Bygrave would not suspect him of performing a private errand.