an, too, belike?"

"The gentleman will go back with me. Come, get away!"

"Quite right; on'y there's no airing and cleaning; and I declare I'm
that fearsome--"

Hugh Ritson had taken the landlady by the shoulders and was pushing her
out of the room.

"One moment," he whispered, and drew her back. "Anything doing
upstairs?"

"Upstairs?--the bed--airing--"

"The girl? Has she made any noise yet? Is she conscious?"

"Not as I know of. I went up and listened, and never a sound. Deary me,
deary me! I'm that fearsome--"

"Go up again, and put your ear to the door."

"I'm afeart she'll never come round, and her in that way, and weak, too,
and--"

At that instant there came from the dark road the sound of
carriage-wheels approaching. Hugh Ritson thrust the landlady out of the
room, slammed the door to, and locked it.

"What's that?" said Drayton, in a husky whisper. "Who do they want?
You've not rounded on a fellow, eh?"

"It's the carriage that is to take you and the lady to Kentish Town,"
said Hugh. "Hush! Listen!"

The driver rapped at the door with the end of his whip, and shouted from
his seat: "Heigho, heigho--ready for Kentish Town? Eleven o'clock struck
this half hour!" Then he could be heard beating his crossed arms under
his armpits to warm his hands.

"The fool!" muttered Hugh, "can't he keep his tongue in his mouth?"

"Quite right," shouted Mrs. Drayton, in a shrill voice, putting her face
to the window-pane. "Belike it's for the gentleman," she explained to
herself, and then, with candle in hand, she began to mount the stairs.

The door of the room to the left opened, and Paul Ritson came out. His
great strength seemed to be gone--he reeled like a drunken man.

"Landlady," he said, "when does your last train go up to London?"

"At half past twelve," said Mrs. Drayton, from two steps up the stairs.

"Can I get a fly, my good woman, at this hour of the night?"

"The fly's at the door, sir--just come, sir."

Paul went back into the room where he had left his wife.

The two men in the dark room opposite listened intently.

"Be quiet," whispered Hugh Ritson. "I knew he must think better of it.
He is going. Keep still. Five minutes more, and you start away with the
lady for Kentish Town. He shall walk to the station with me. The instant
we leave the house, you go to the lady and say, 'I have changed my mind,
Greta. We must go together. Come.' Not a word more; hurry her into the
fly, and away.