The cloak and the trousers were horribly spotted with blood.

She made all into one compact package, rolled up the dagger in the bundle, stole back to the baronet's dressing-room and listened, and peeped through the key-hole.

He was not there; the room was empty.

She went in, thrust the bundle out of sight in the remotest corner of the wardrobe, and hastened back to her chamber.

Her letter still lay where she had left it.