ther Dan had
given me for a wedding-present when (as I know now) he would rather have
parted with his heart's blood.

Another was a pearl rosary which the Reverend Mother had dropped over my
arm the last time she kissed me on the forehead; and the last was my
Martin's misspelt love-letter, which was more precious to me than
rubies.

Not for worlds, I thought, would I leave these behind me, or ever part
with them under any circumstances.

Several times while I was busy with such preparations, growing more and
more nervous every moment, Price came on tip-toe and tapped softly at my
door.

Once it was to bring me some food and to tell me, with many winks (for
the good soul herself was trembling with excitement), that everything
was "as right as ninepence." I should get away without difficulty in a
couple of hours, and until to-morrow morning nobody would be a penny the
wiser.

Fortunately it was Thursday, when a combined passenger and cargo steamer
sailed to Liverpool. Of course the motor-car would not be available to
take me to the pier, but Tommy the Mate, who had a stiff cart in which
he took his surplus products to market, would be waiting for me at
eleven o'clock by the gate to the high road.

The people downstairs, meaning my husband and Alma and her mother, were
going off to the pavilion (where hundreds of decorators were to work
late and the orchestra and ballet were to have a rehearsal), and they
had been heard to say that they would not be back until "way round about
midnight."

"But the servants?" I asked.

"They're going too, bless them," said Price. "So eat your dinner in
peace, my lady, and don't worry about a thing until I come back to fetch
you."

Another hour passed. I was in a fever of apprehension. I felt like a
prisoner who was about to escape from a dungeon.

A shrill wind was coming up from the sea and whistling about the house.
I could hear the hammering of the workmen in the pavilion as well as the
music of the orchestra practising their scores.

A few minutes before eleven Price returned, carrying one of the smaller
of the travelling-trunks I had taken to Cairo. I noticed that it bore no
name and no initials.

"It's all right," she said. "They've gone off, every mother's son and
daughter of them--all except the housekeeper, and I've caught her out,
the cat!"

That lynx-eyed person had begun to suspect. She had seen Tommy
harnessing his horse and had not been satisfied with his
e