"Oh, no. I can get him home. He'll soon be well enough, I hope, to understand that it's his interest to hold his tongue, and I can settle the rest with him to-morrow. If he is inclined to make trouble----"

"I think that we can persuade him between us. If you need my help, let me know."

"I'm much obliged to you for that." I paused for a moment. "You, I suppose, have no business with him just now?"

He looked at me gravely. "I am informed that he has already been paid for his services," he said. "Such services, Mr. Austin, are, as your tone implied, not very pleasant to receive. But the greater fault seems to lie with those whose methods make them necessary." He rose to his feet, saying, "It'll be some time before the carriage gets back. I think I'll start on my way and meet it. You're sure I can be of no use? No?

Then good-night, Mr. Austin."

"Good-night, Lord Fillingford."

"You will communicate with me, if necessary?"

"Yes. I don't see why it should be."

With these words we had reached the door, and I opened it. At the moment I saw the lamps of his carriage at the gate.

"Look, the carriage is back already; it can't have taken her half the way!"

He made no reply, and we walked quickly down the path together.

"You took Miss Driver home, Thompson?" Fillingford asked the coachman.

"No, my lord, not to Breysgate. Miss Driver wished to go to the station.

I drove there and set her down. She told me to come back here immediately, my lord."

"To the station?" we both exclaimed, startled into an involuntary show of surprise.

The man hesitated a little. "I--I beg pardon, my lord, but I think Miss Driver meant to go by train. She asked me to drive quickly--and she'd just have managed the eight-fifteen."

I looked at my watch, it was just on half-past eight.

"Perhaps she only wanted to see--somebody--off," said Fillingford, soon recovered from his momentary lapse into a betrayal of surprise. He turned to me. "That'll be it, Mr. Austin."

I looked at his face--there was no telling anything from it. It had given no sign of change as he made his reference to Octon. I think that he must have seen something in mine, for he added in a low voice, "Very likely that's all." He seemed to urge this view upon me.

Well, it was not an unlikely view. She had risked much for a last talk with Octon. She might well be tempted to seek another, a final, farewell. But I was very uneasy.

Without more words, merely with a polite lift of his hat, Fillingford got into his carriage and was driven off toward the Manor. I turned and walked slowly back to the house. Lacey came out from the shrubbery on the left of the path. "Well?" he said.

"I want your help inside," I said.

He asked no questions. We went in together and set to work with Powers.

With the help of brandy and a shaking we got him on his feet. Soon he was well enough to be led home. His wife was in by now and opened the door for us. I told her that he had had a kind of seizure, but was much better--there was no need of a doctor. I sent her to get his bed ready.

Then I had a word with him.

"Can you understand business?" I asked.

"Yes--I feel queer, though."

"Hold your tongue and you shall be well paid. Talk, and you won't get a farthing. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Mr. Austin."

"Very well, act on it for to-night--and I'll come and see you to-morrow."

I left his wife getting him to bed. I do not think that the story of the seizure imposed on her, but she pretended to accept it. Probably she was accustomed to his having accidents--the risks of the trade he practiced were considerable. Meanwhile Lacey had been over to the Ford again, and left a written message on the table, saying that Octon had been called to town and would not be back that night. All else could wait till to-morrow. Now I wanted to get back to Breysgate. Lacey, too, was for home, which he could reach quicker by the public road than by coming round through our park. He had put to me no question at all up to now.

Just as we were parting he did ask two.

"We didn't bring it off, I gather?"

I shook my head. Most certainly we had not brought it off.

"How did the--the governor behave?"

One speech of "the governor's" had been perhaps a little bitter. That was his right; and the bitterness was in the high manner--as Jenny herself had felt.

"He behaved--perfectly." That description was--from our side--only his due.

Lacey looked at me, smiled woefully, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes--and so he's lost her!" he said. He turned on his heel, and swung off into the darkness. I was left with a notion that we possessed a man more than we had counted in our neighborhood.

I made for the Priory--_ventre-a-terre_. Something had come home to Jenny when Fillingford tore up her letter and told her that she was not like Eleanor Lacey for nothing. Till then she had been negotiating--negotiating still, though ever so defiantly--still trying to find out what he thought, trying to see what view he took, even though she ostentatiously abstained from self-defense. At that action and at that speech she had frozen. "Probably not!" That was her acceptance of his action and his words. She had taken them for her answer--the tearing of the letter and his one bitter speech.

The big house lay hospitably open to the night--lights in the windows, lamps burning in the hall and illuminating the approach. Well, it was early evening yet--only nine o'clock. All might be safe and well within doors, and yet the doors be open. I ran up the steps in a pa.s.sion of excitement.

As I reached the door, I was met--not by Loft nor by any of the men--but by the trembling figure of a woman. Chat had heard feet on the steps--she had been in waiting! My heart sank as lead. Whom had she been waiting for? Not for me!

"I did my best, I did my best," she whispered, catching me by the lapel of my greatcoat. "I kept him as long as I could. What happened?"

"The worst of luck. Is she here?"

"Here?" She seemed amazed. "No! Did you see her? Where have you left her?"

"Then she's gone," I said.

Chat stood where she was for a second, then dropped into the hall-porter's chair which was just behind her. She began to sob violently, rocking herself to and fro. "I tried, I tried, I tried!" she kept saying through her sobs.

I became suddenly aware that Loft had come into the hall. He appeared not to notice Chat. He stood there, grave and attentive, awaiting my orders.

"Miss Driver has been suddenly called away. I don't think she'll be home to night. If she should come, the night-watchman will let her in, and Miss Chatters will be up. The rest of you needn't wait after your usual time."

"Very good, sir," said Loft. Gravely, with his measured step, he walked away and left us alone together.

Chat stopped sobbing for a moment--to ask me a supremely unimportant question.

"Was she very angry with me, Mr. Austin?"

"She didn't say one word about you."