is
for the moment a guest under your roof. My friend, I must say,
telegraphs in a most mysterious manner, but he is evidently very anxious
that we should accede to his request. Our appearance here at this time
of night I admit is most unjustifiable, but what were we to do? It is
absolutely necessary for my wife to catch the two-twenty from Charing
Cross to-morrow. I hope that my friend will some day appreciate my
devotion. To come round by your house I have had to borrow a carriage
from my friend Chestow. We shall have to drive to Norwich, and catch a
train from there to London in the small hours of the morning. I presume
the young lady is here?"

"The young lady is here!" Duncombe answered. "May I inquire the name of
the friend to whom you are asked to take her?"

The Marquis yawned slightly. He, too, seemed weary.

"My dear Sir George," he said, "I trust that you will appreciate my
position in this matter. I do not even know the young lady's name. My
eccentric friend in his telegram, which occupied four forms, most
specially insisted that I should ask or answer no questions concerning
her."

"You are not aware, then, of the circumstances which led to her coming
here?" Duncombe asked.

"I am utterly ignorant of them," the Marquis answered. "I am constrained
to remain so."

"You no doubt have some message for her," Duncombe said. "Her position
here is a little peculiar. She may desire some sort of information as to
her destination."

The Marquis knocked the ash off his cigarette.

"If you will produce the young lady," he said, "I think that you will
find her prepared to come with us without asking any questions."

Duncombe threw open the door which led into the inner room. The girl
stepped forward as far as the threshold and looked out upon them.

"The Marquis and the Marquise de St. Ethol," Duncombe said to her. "They
have brought me a letter from the Duke of Chestow, and they have come to
take you back to France."

The girl looked fixedly for a moment at the Marquise. If any word or
sign passed between them it escaped Duncombe. Phyllis was content,
however, to ask no questions.

"I am quite ready," she said calmly.

The Marquise rose.

"Your luggage can be sent on," she remarked.

Duncombe approached Phyllis, and stood by her side.

"These people," he said, "will not tell me where they are taking you to.
Are you content to go?"

"I must go," she answered simply.

"You wish me to give you----"