e told the men, "until you hear Beale return. Then
make your escape. On your way down leave the shoe on the stairs. It will
help to put our friend off the trail."

Half an hour after the discovery of the shoe on the stairs Beale went
out accompanied by his visitors.

The doctor watched the dark figures disappear into the night from the
window of his sitting-room and made his way back to the girl's flat. She
was lying where he had left her, feeling dizzy and sick. Her eyes closed
in a little grimace of distaste as he put on the light.

"How does my little friend feel now?" he asked coolly.

She made no reply.

"Really, you must not sulk," he said chidingly, "and you must get used
to being polite because you are going to see a great deal of me. You had
better get up and put your coat on."

She noticed that he had a medicine glass in his hand, half-filled with a
milky-white liquor.

"Drink this," he said.

She pushed it away.

"Come, drink it," he said, "you don't suppose I want to poison you, do
you? I don't even want to drug you, otherwise it would have been simple
to have given you a little more ether. Drink it. It will take that hazy
feeling out of your head."

She took the glass with an unsteady hand and swallowed its contents. It
was bitter and hot and burnt her throat, but its effects were magical.
In three minutes her mind had cleared and when she sat up she could do
so without her head swimming.

"You will now put on your coat and hat, pack a few things that you want
for a journey, and come along with me."

"I shall do nothing of the sort," she said, "I advise you to go, Dr. van
Heerden, before I inform the police of your outrageous conduct."

"Put on your hat and coat," he repeated calmly, "and don't talk
nonsense. You don't suppose that I have risked all that I have risked to
let you go at this hour."

"Dr. van Heerden," she said, "if you have any spark of decency or
manhood you will leave me."

He laughed a little.

"Now you are talking like a heroine of Lyceum drama," he said. "Any
appeal you might make, Miss Cresswell, is a waste of time and a waste of
breath. I shall have no hesitation in using violence of the most
unpleasant character unless you do as I tell you."

His voice was quiet, but there was about him a convincing air of
purpose.

"Where are you going to take me?" she asked.

"I am going to take you to a place of safety. When I say safety," he
added, "I mean safety for me.