Part 4 (2/2)

As the driver leaped from the car a second man disconnected himself from the shadows, paused for a moment to take orders from the new arrival, and then jumped into the seat just vacated. Whereupon the one-time driver performed precisely the same feat that Dauntless had performed three minutes before him. He jerked forth a couple of bags and then proceeded to lift from the tonneau of the car a vague but animate something, which, an instant later, resolved itself into the form of a woman at his side.

”I've settled with the company, Meaders,” hurriedly announced Windoms.h.i.+re to the man on the seat. ”The car is in your hands now.”

”Yes, sir; I understand. Your week is up to-night. Hope it was satisfactory, sir.” The car shot off in the night, almost running down a man who scudded across the street in its path.

”Just in time, Anne,” said Windoms.h.i.+re to the tall, hooded figure beside him. ”Thank G.o.d, we didn't miss it.”

”Hasn't it been good sport, Harry?” cried the young woman, with an unmistakably English inflection. ”It's just like a book.”

”Only more so,” he observed. ”This has really happened, you know.

Things never really happen in books, don't you know. You've not lost your tickets, dear?”

”No; they do that only in books. Really, I'm trembling like a leaf. I can't realise that it is all taking place as we planned, and that I am to be your wife after all. Ah, Harry! isn't it splendid?”

”'Gad, little woman, I am the one who hasn't the right to realise. By Jove, I didn't give myself credit for the cleverness to fool every one so neatly. Really, don't you know, however, I feel a bit sorry for Miss Thursdale. She's a ripping good sort, and I'm sorry on that account.”

Miss Courtenay--erstwhile governess--took hold of the lapels of his raincoat and looked seriously up into his face. ”Are you sure you'll never regret giving her up for me--with all her money?”

”Oh, I say, Anne dear, it's I who am running away, not you. I've always wanted you--all my life. I've been something of a cad---”

”It wasn't your fault. Mrs. Thursdale was bound to have you. It's her way.”

”It hurts my pride to say it, but hanged if I think--er--Eleanor was very strong for the match. I've a notion she was bullied into it.”

”I'm quite sure of it.”

”You're doing her a good turn, my dear. You see, I couldn't love her, and I'd probably have beaten her and all that. It wasn't as if I had to marry her for her money. Deuce take it, I've got a few pounds of my own.”

”I'm only Anne Courtenay, the governess.”

”You'll be Lady Windoms.h.i.+re some day, my word for it--if the other chaps manage to die, G.o.d bless 'em. I say, here's the train.

Good-night, dear, up you go! I'll go up ahead. Don't forget! The wedding's at noon to-morrow.”

The long, shadowy train came to a stop. He elbowed the porter aside and helped her up the steps. Neither of them noticed the vague figure which rushed across the platform and into the second car below.

”Where's the luggage car?” shouted Windoms.h.i.+re to the porter.

”The what?”

”I mean the baggage van.”

”Way up front, sir. Where they're puttin' on the trunks, sir.”

Swinging his travelling bag almost at arm's length, the long Englishman raced forward. His own and Miss Courtenay's pieces had come over during the afternoon, skilfully smuggled out of the Thursdale house. Just as he reached the baggage truck a panting, mud-covered individual dashed up from the opposite direction, madly rus.h.i.+ng for the train. They tried to avoid a collision, but failed. A second later the two men were staring into each other's eyes, open-mouthed and dismayed.

”h.e.l.lo!” gasped Dauntless, staggered.

”What the devil, sir, do--My word! It's Dauntless!” sputtered Windoms.h.i.+re.

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