had not
been murdered by the lawyer and the detective, she had begun to fear
lest she were lost in the wood. She received Pollyooly's account of
the pleasant day she had spent with many expressions of pleased
amazement; and then she gave her a noble tea.

Pollyooly was coming to the end of it, listening with an agreeable show
of interest to the further details of Eglantine's affair of the heart
with the landed proprietor of the market-garden, when they were both
startled by a loud snort at the window. The lawyer and the detective
were looking in upon them, their faces beaming with satisfaction at the
sight of their quarry. The detective guarded the window while the
lawyer sprang lithely round the house, through the front door, and into
the room.

"Thank goodness! I've caught your ladyship at last!" he cried.

Pollyooly scowled at him and said nothing. It was her habit in the
part of Lady Marion Ricksborough to give herself airs. He snatched his
watch from his pocket and cried:

"Oh, hang it! We've missed the last train to London!"

Pollyooly smiled coldly.

"Well, we must spend the night at the hotel," he said grumpily. "If I
left your ladyship here, there's no saying when I should see you again."

Pollyooly scowled again, and Eglantine burst into loud and excited
protest:

"Her ladyship must sleep in the house--in her own bed--properly."

The lawyer paid no heed to her protest, but bade her pack her young
mistress's clothes at once. He said that the sooner she was at the
hotel, the safer he would feel. He did not get his way without further
and louder protests from Eglantine; but in the end he got it. She
packed the little kit-bag for Pollyooly with clothes of Lady Marion.
The detective carried it. As they were starting she gave Pollyooly two
sovereigns wrapped up in a five-pound note, saying that the duchess had
left it for her. The extra two sovereigns were for expenses, since she
might need money to escape.

The sum warmed Pollyooly's heart.

She bade Eglantine an affectionate farewell and invited her to come to
see her whenever she was in London. Then she set out with her captors.
On the way down the hill the lawyer was very respectful and agreeable
to Pollyooly, proclaiming his eager desire to secure her welfare, and
dwelling on the pleasure she must be feeling at the prospect of being
re-united with her affectionate father, the duke. No such prospect lay
before her; and she displayed