ith his nerves.

The car was still racing forward, plunging deeper and deeper into the
heart of the country. Lessing studied the road on either side,
searching for landmarks which might be registered for future use. He
had by now concluded that he was being conveyed to some stronghold of
the Brethren where he would meet the fate allotted to him for his
betrayal, and he reflected that it would be days if not weeks before
his disappearance would attract serious attention. By way of
precaution he had burnt Blakeney's telegram as soon as read; while the
boy who carried his bag to the station had departed immediately after
his own arrival and could give no clue as to his destination.
To-night might see the close of his own life, but his friends would
pursue the even tenor of their way without a fear for his welfare.
Even Delia... With the thought of Delia came a knife-like pang; a
determination to strain every nerve and faculty to outwit his enemies.

Another five minutes, and he became aware that the car was slacking
speed, that the men on the front seat were looking ahead, as though on
the watch for an expected signal. Presumably it came, for with
skilful turns of the wheel the chauffeur steered the car down a narrow
lane, and, with a second lurching curve, into a gateway which stood
half-way down its length.

So far the manipulation of the car had borne testimony to the skill of
the chauffeur, but two sharp turnings so quickly succeeding each other
were a severe test, and terminated in a momentary skid over a grassy
bank, during which the car tilted violently to the side.

The swing was severe enough to throw Lessing sideways on the seat, and
before he had time to right himself, the two men had leaped off the
box, the one to the right and the other to the left, and had appeared
simultaneously at either door. There was nothing precisely
threatening in their demeanour, but they had the air of men who knew
their duty, and were prepared to do it. The chauffeur had an
appearance of bull-dog strength, but little sign of intelligence. The
man in the brown coat had a narrow, hatchet-like face, with keen,
alert eyes. The hand which lay on the door of the car was white and
well shaped. One glance at him showed that he was the real master of
the situation. Lessing looked from one to the other with an air of
haughty displeasure.

"May I inquire