Marie Belloc Lowndes

“ Uttering these words in a low tone, the Countess got up and shut the door, and, as she did so, the sleeve of Lily's cloak was plucked by Cristina's thin fingers, and she was gently and silently pushed towards the steep staircase.
Lily crept upstairs, opened her bedroom door, and lit a candle. She felt excited and ill at ease. She wished that horrible old man would go away. What could he have said or done to make his host and hostess look like that? Had he some hold over Beppo Polda? Lily's heart was beating with a strange sense of vague disquiet and—yes—fear. ”

“ It was certain that they could see nothing, for Lily, standing in the passage, was shrouded in deep shadow. Yet on each of the faces now turned towards the hidden watcher was an awful expression of suspense and acute fear—more marked in the Countess's strong-featured countenance than in that of the Count.
“There is no one there; it must have been Cristina.” ”

“ Vissering gone yet?” asked Lily. “How very strange, Cristina—he said he must go quite early. I'd better go straight up to my room,” went on the girl in a low voice. She stepped into the dark drawing-room. Where were the Count and Countess and their guest?
“The visitor came late,” murmured the old servant. “They are still in the dining-room.”
In a darkness made more dense by the moonlight outside. Cristina took Lily's hand, and together they crept very quietly into the corridor. ”