tally reviewed the intervening countryside, and taking a
gambler's chance, took the Rolls Royce up the hill. He knew exactly
what he was about, and he knew that the powerful engine would eat up the
slope with ease.

Its behaviour exceeded his expectations, and he found himself mounting
the acclivity at racing speed. At its highest point, the road, skirting
a hilltop, offered an extensive view of the valley below. Here Nicol
Brinn pulled up and, descending, watched and listened.

In the stillness he could plainly hear the other automobile humming
steadily along the lowland road below. He concentrated his mind upon
the latter part of that strange journey, striving to recall any details
which had marked it immediately preceding the time when he had detected
the rustling of leaves and knew that they had entered a carriage drive.

Yes, there had been a short but steep hill; and immediately before
this the car had passed over a deeply rutted road, or--he had a sudden
inspiration--over a level crossing.

He knew of just such a hilly road immediately behind Lower Claybury
station. Indeed, it was that by which he should be compelled to descend
if he continued to pursue his present route to the town. He could think
of no large, detached house, the Manor Park excepted, which corresponded
to the one which he sought. But that in taking the high road he had
acted even more wisely than he knew, he was now firmly convinced.

He determined to proceed as far as the park gates as speedily as
possible. Therefore, returning to the wheel, he sent the car along the
now level road at top speed, so that the railings of the Manor Park,
when presently he found himself skirting the grounds, had the semblance
of a continuous iron fence wherever the moonlight touched them.

He passed the head of the road dipping down to Lower Claybury, but forty
yards beyond pulled up and descended. Again he stood listening, and:

"Good!" he muttered.

He could hear the other car labouring up the slope. He ran along to the
corner of the lane, and, crouching close under the bushes, waited for
its appearance. As he had supposed, the chauffeur turned the car to the
right.

"Good!" muttered Nicol Brinn again.

There was a baggage-rack immediately above the number plate. Upon this
Nicol Brinn sprang with the agility of a wildcat, settling himself upon
his perilous perch before the engine had had time to gather speed.

When presently the car turned into the dr