te before." And suddenly Celia hung inert in his arms.

The light went out in the salon. Adele Rossignol, carrying Celia's
cloak, stepped out at the side of the window.

"She has fainted," said Wethermill. "Wipe the mould off her shoes and
off yours too--carefully. I don't want them to think this car has been
out of the garage at all."

Adele stooped and obeyed. Wethermill opened the door of the car and
flung Celia into a seat. Adele followed and took her seat opposite the
girl. Wethermill stepped carefully again on to the grass, and with the
toe of his shoe scraped up and ploughed the impressions which he and
Adele Rossignol had made on the ground, leaving those which Celia had
made. He came back to the window.

"She has left her footmarks clear enough," he whispered. "There will be
no doubt in the morning that she went of her own free will."

Then he took the chauffeur's seat, and the car glided silently down the
drive and out by the gate. As soon as it was on the road it stopped. In
an instant Adele Rossignol's head was out of the window.

"What is it?" she exclaimed in fear.

Wethermill pointed to the roof. He had left the light burning in Helene
Vauquier's room.

"We can't go back now," said Adele in a frantic whisper. "No; it is
over. I daren't go back." And Wethermill jammed down the lever. The car
sprang forward, and humming steadily over the white road devoured the
miles. But they had made their one mistake.

CHAPTER XX

THE GENEVA ROAD

The car had nearly reached Annecy before Celia woke to consciousness.
And even then she was dazed. She was only aware that she was in the
motor-car and travelling at a great speed. She lay back, drinking in
the fresh air. Then she moved, and with the movement came to her
recollection and the sense of pain. Her arms and wrists were still
bound behind her, and the cords hurt her like hot wires. Her mouth,
however, and her feet were free. She started forward, and Adele
Rossignol spoke sternly from the seat opposite.

"Keep still. I am holding the flask in my hand. If you scream, if you
make a movement to escape, I shall fling the vitriol in your face," she
said.

Celia shrank back, shivering.

"I won't! I won't!" she whispered piteously. Her spirit was broken by
the horrors of the night's adventure. She lay back and cried quietly in
the darkness of the carriage. The car dashed through Annecy. It seemed
incredible to Celia that less than six hours ago she