"Don't be a fool, Karl!" the woman called out. "The game's up. Take it quietly."

Once more the shriek rang through the house. Quest rushed to the door of the room from whence it came, tried the handle and found it locked. He ran back a little way and charged it. From inside he could hear a turmoil of voices. White with rage and pa.s.sion, he pushed and kicked madly. There was the sound of a shot from inside, a bullet came through the door within an inch of his head, then the crash of broken crockery and a man's groan.

With a final effort Quest dashed the door in and staggered into the room.

Lenora was standing in the far corner, the front of her dress torn and blood upon her lip. She held a revolver in her hand and was covering a man whose head and hands were bleeding. Around him were the debris of a broken jug.

"Mr. Quest!" she screamed. "Don't go near him--I've got him covered. I'm all right."

Quest drew a long breath. The man who stood glaring at him was well-dressed and still young. He was unarmed, however, and Quest secured him in a moment.

"The girl's mad!" he said sullenly. "No one wanted to do her any harm."

Hardaway and his men came trooping up the stairs. Quest relinquished his prisoner and went over to Lenora.

"I've been so frightened," she sobbed. "They got me in here--they told me that this was the street in which my aunt lived--and they wouldn't let me go. The woman was horrible. And this afternoon this man came. The brute!"

"He hasn't hurt you?" Quest demanded fiercely, as he pa.s.sed his arm around her.

She shook her head.

"He would never have done that," she murmured. "I had my hatpin in my gown and I should have killed myself first."

Quest turned to Hardaway.

"I'll take the young lady away," he said. "You know where to find us."

Hardaway nodded and Quest supported Lenora down the stairs and into the taxi-cab, which was still waiting. She leaned back and he pa.s.sed his arm around her.

"Are you faint?" he asked anxiously, as they drove towards the hotel.

"A little," she admitted, "not very. But oh! I am so thankful--so thankful!"

He leaned a little nearer towards her. She looked at him wonderingly.

Suddenly the colour flushed into her cheeks.

"I couldn't have done without you, Lenora," he whispered, as he kissed her.

Lenora had almost recovered when they reached the hotel. Walking up and down they found the Professor. His face, as he came towards them, was almost pitiful. He scarcely noticed Lenora's deshabille, which was in a measure concealed by the cloak which Quest had thrown around her.

"My friend!" he exclaimed--"Mr. Quest! It is the devil incarnate against whom we fight!"

"What do you mean?" Quest demanded.

The Professor wrung his hands.

"I put him in our James the Second prison," he declared. "Why should I think of the secret pa.s.sage? No one has used it for a hundred years. He found it, learnt the trick--"

"You mean," Quest cried--

"He has escaped!" the Professor broke in. "Craig has escaped again! They are searching for him high and low, but he has gone!"

Quest's arm tightened for a moment in Lenora's. It was curious how he seemed to have lost at that moment all sense of proportion. Lenora was safe--the relief of that one thought overshadowed everything else in the world.

"The fellow can't get far," he muttered.

"Who knows?" the Professor replied dolefully. "The pa.s.sage--I'll show it you some day and you'll see how wonderful his escape has been--leads on to the first floor of the house. He must have got into my dressing-room, for his old clothes are there and he went away in a suit of mine. No one has seen him or knows anything about him. All that the local police can find out is that a man answering somewhat his description caught the morning train for Southampton from Hamblin Roads."

They had been standing together in a little recess of the hall. Suddenly Lenora, whose face was turned towards the entrance doors, gave a little cry. She took a quick step forward.

"Laura!" she exclaimed, wonderingly. "Why, it's Laura!"

They all turned around. A young woman had just entered the hotel, followed by a porter carrying some luggage. Her arm was in a sling and there was a bandage around her forehead. She walked, too, with the help of a stick.

She recognized them at once and waved it gaily.

"Hullo, you people?" she cried. "Soon run you to earth, eh?"

They were for a moment dumbfounded; Lenora was the first to find words.

"But when did you start, Laura?" she asked. "I thought you were too ill to move for weeks."

The girl smiled contemptuously.

"I left three days after you, on the _Kaiser Frederic_," she replied.

"There was some trouble at Plymouth, and we came into Southampton early this morning, and here I am. But, before we go any farther, tell me about Craig?"

"We've had him," Quest confessed, "and lost him again. He escaped last night."

"Where from?" Laura asked.

"Hamblin House."

"Is that anywhere near the south coast?" the girl demanded excitedly.

"It's not far away," Quest replied quickly. "Why?"

"I'll tell you why," Laura explained. "I was as sure of it as any one could be. Craig pa.s.sed me in Southampton Water this morning, being rowed out to a steamer. Not only that but he recognized me. I saw him draw back and hide his face, but somehow I couldn't believe that it was really he. I was just coming down the gangway and I nearly fell into the sea, I was so surprised."

Quest was already turning over the pages of a time-table.

"What was the steamer?" he demanded.

"I found out," Laura told him. "I tell you, I was so sure of it's being Craig that I made no end of enquiries. It was the _Barton_, bound for India, with first stop at Port Said."

"When does she sail?" Quest asked.

"To-night--somewhere about seven," Laura replied.

Quest glanced at the clock and threw down the time-table. He turned towards the door. They all followed him.

"I'm for Southampton," he announced. "I'm going to try to get on board that steamer before she sails. Lenora, you'd better go upstairs and lie down. They'll give you a room here. Don't you stir out till I come back.