son indeed. The Odell-Carneys
were down the hall discussing her strange defection; it was with no
little relief that they saw her enter the room.

"Are we alone?" demanded Miss Fowler, not giving Edith time to proclaim
her joy at seeing her. "Well, I've arranged a way to get him out," she
went on, her lips set.

"Out?" murmured Mrs. Medcroft.

"Of course. We can't let him stay in there all night, Edith. How much
money have you? Hurry up, please! Don't stare!"

"In where? Who's in where?"

"He's in gaol!" with supreme scorn. "Haven't you heard?"

Mrs. Medcroft began to cry. "Mr. Brock in gaol? Good heavens, what shall
I do? I--I was depending on him so much. He ought to be here at this
very instant. What has he been doing?"

"Edith Medcroft, stop sniffling, and don't think of yourself for a
while. It will do you a great deal of good. Where's your money?"

Ruthlessly she began to rummage Edith's treasure trunk. The other came
to her assistance after a dazed interval. The family purse came to
light.

"I have a little over four thousand crowns," she murmured helplessly.

"Give it me, quick. There's no time to waste. I have about five
thousand. It's all in notes, thank heaven. It isn't quite enough, but
I'll try to make it do. Don't stop me, Edith. I haven't time to answer
questions. He's in gaol, didn't you hear me say? And I love him!"

"But the--the money? Is it to bail him out with?"

"Bail? No, my dear, it's to _buy_ him out with. 'Sh! Is there any one in
that room? Well, then, I'll tell you something." The heads of the two
sisters were quite close together. "He's in a cell at the--the
prison-hof, or whatever you call it in German. It's gaol in English. I
have arranged to bribe one of the gaolers--his guard. He will let him
escape for ten thousand crowns--we must do it, Edith! Then Mr. Brock
will ride over the Brenner Pass and catch a train somewhere, before his
escape is discovered. I expect to meet him in Paris day after to-morrow.
Have you heard from Roxbury?"

"No!" wailed Roxbury's wife.

"He's a brute!" stormed Miss Fowler.

"Constance!" flared Mrs. Medcroft, aghast at this sign of lese-majesty.

"Don't tell anybody," called Constance, as she banged the door behind
her.

Soon after midnight a closely veiled lady drove up to a street corner
adjacent to the city prison, a dolorous-looking building which loomed up
still and menacing just ahead. She alighted and, dismissing the cab,
strode off qu