He was arrested in his hasty passage by Cecilia Halkett.

She handed him a telegraphic message: Rosamund requested him to stay two
days in Bevisham. She said additionally: 'Perfectly well. Shall fear to
see you returning yet. Have sent to Tourdestelle. All his friends. Ni
espoir, ni crainte, mais point de deceptions. Lumiere. Ce sont les
tenebres qui tuent.'

Her nimble wits had spied him on the road he was choosing, and outrun
him.

He resigned himself to wait a couple of days at Bevisham. Cecilia begged
him to accept a bed at Mount Laurels. He declined, and asked her: 'How
is it you are here?'

'I called here,' said she, compressing her eyelids in anguish at a wilder
cry of the voice overhead, and forgetting to state why she had called at
the house and what services she had undertaken. A heap of letters in her
handwriting explained the nature of her task.

Lord Romfrey asked her where the colonel was.

'He drives me down in the morning and back at night, but they will give
me a bed or a sofa here to-night--I can't . . .' Cecilia stretched her
hand out, blinded, to the earl.

He squeezed her hand.

'These letters take away my strength: crying is quite useless, I know