it.

'He has missed the train,' said Sol. Picotee looked disappointed, and
said nothing. They were soon out of sight.

'God forgive me for such a hollow pretence!' said Christopher to himself.
'But he would have been uneasy had he known I wished to stay behind. I
cannot leave her in trouble like this!'

He went back to the 'Red Lion' with the manner and movement of a man who
after a lifetime of desultoriness had at last found something to do. It
was now getting late in the afternoon. Christopher ordered a one-horse
brougham at the inn, and entering it was driven out of the town towards
Enckworth as the evening shades were beginning to fall. They passed into
the hamlet of Little Enckworth at half-past five, and drew up at a beer-
house at the end. Jumping out here, Julian told the man to wait till he
should return.

Thus far he had exactly obeyed her orders to Sol. He hoped to be able to
obey them throughout, and supply her with the aid her brother refused. He
also hoped that the change in the personality of her confederate would
make no difference to her intention. That he was putting himself in a
wrong position he allowed, but time and attention were requisite for such
analysis: meanwhile Ethelberta was in trouble. On the one hand was she
waiting hopefully for Sol; on the other was Sol many miles on his way to
town; between them was himself.

He ran with all his might towards Enckworth Park, mounted the lofty stone
steps by the lodge, saw the dark bronze figures on the piers through the
twilight, and then proceeded to thread the trees. Among these he struck
a light for a moment: it was ten minutes to six. In another five minutes
he was panting beneath the walls of her house.

Enckworth Court was not unknown to Christopher, for he had frequently
explored that spot in his Sandbourne days. He perceived now why she had
selected that particular balcony for handing down directions; it was the
only one round the house that was low enough to be reached from the
outside, the basement here being a little way sunk in the ground.

He went close under, turned his face outwards, and waited. About a foot
over his head was the stone floor of the balcony, forming a ceiling to
his position. At his back, two or three feet behind, was a blank
wall--the wall of the house. In front of him was the misty park, crowned
by a sky sparkling with winter stars. This was abruptly cut off upward
by the dark edge of the balcon