The same instant, Ormiston started to go.
"The storm has entirely ceased," he said, stepping out, and with the profound air of one making a new discovery, "and we are likely to have fine weather for the remainder of the night--or rather, morning.

Good night, count." "Farewell," said the count, as he and, his companion came out from the shadow of the archway, and turned to follow La Masque.
Ormiston, thinking the hour of waiting had elapsed, and feeling much more interested in the coming meeting than in Leoline or her visitors, paid very little attention to his two acquaintances.

He saw them, it is true, enter Leoline's house, but at the same instant, he took up his post at La Masque's doorway, and concentrated his whole attention on that piece of architecture.

Every moment seemed like a week now; and before he had stood at his post five minutes, he had worked himself up into a perfect fever of impatience.

Sometimes he was inclined to knock and seek La Masque in her own home; but as often the fear of a chilling rebuke paralyzed his hand when he raised it.