o dream. You are here in order to be taken. This may be the first stage
of a long journey. Understand also that there is no bond of duty which
forces you to go against your will, for the shrewdest men in the New
York police have reason to think you are not who you imagine you are,
and that the woman you call your aunt is no relative of yours."

"What reason have they?" asked Winifred.

"I don't care--I don't know, they have not told me. But I believe them,
and I want you to believe me. The persons who have charge of your
destiny are not normal persons--more or less they have done, or are
connected with wrong. There is no doubt about that. The police know it,
though they cannot yet drag that wrong into the light. Do you credit
what I say?"

"It is all very strange."

"It is _true_. That is the point. Have you, by the way, ever seen a man
called Voles?"

"Voles? No."

"Yet that man at this moment is somewhere near you. He came in the same
train with you from New York. He is always near you. He is the most
intimate associate of your aunt. Think now, and tell me whether it is
not a disturbing thing that you never saw this man face to face?"

"Most disturbing, if what you say is so."

"But suppose I tell you what I firmly believe--that you _have_ seen him;
that it was _his_ face which bent over you in your half-sleep the other
night, and his voice which you heard?"

"I always thought that it was no dream," said Winifred. "It was--not a
nice face."

"And remember, Winifred," urged Carshaw earnestly, "that to-day and
to-morrow are your last chances. You are about to be taken far
away--possibly to France or England, as surely as you see those clouds.
True, if you go, I shall go after you."

"You?"

"Yes, I. But, if you go, I cannot be certain how far I may be able to
defend and rescue you there, as I can in America. I know nothing of
foreign laws, and those who have you in their power do. On that field
they may easily beat me. So now is your chance, Winifred."

"But what am I to do?" she asked in a scared tone, frightened at last by
the sincerity blazing from his eyes.

"Necessity has no rules of propriety," he answered. "I have a car here.
You should come with me this very night to New York. Once back there, it
is only what my interest in you gives me the right to expect that you
will consent to use my purse for a short while, till you find suitable
employment."

Winifred covered her face and began to cry.