permitted to reach Schallberg or the army probably investing it. He
gave the necessary orders to Carrick and without undue haste while in
the vicinity of the inn the automobile proceeded on its quest.

When out of earshot of the hostelry, the Cockney, who had been a silent
observer of the controversy, gave a prodigious sigh of relief.

"I wouldn't trust that grinning ape with a dead pup. 'E's a sly one.
'Opes we don't run into 'im again."

"I don't like him, either. I have a feeling, though, that we'll meet him
again soon and like him less."

V

I AM THE LADY TRUSIA

"I hope she's not dead," Carter said fervently as he bent over the
unconscious girl. He beckoned to his chauffeur. "You can't catch her
horse, Carrick. No use trying. Just hand me my flask."

As he forced the brandy through the pale lips he inwardly cursed his own
lust for speed which had been the cause of the possibly fatal
catastrophe.

Tempted by a bit of road, straight and smooth, full power had been put
on in a feverish desire to interpose as much space as possible between
the automobile and the Gray Man at the inn, repugnance for whom seethed
in Carter's soul. As the touring car had neared a turn in the way, its
two occupants had been horrified to see a spirited black horse, ridden
by a beautiful girl, swing at a sharp gallop directly in their path. A
rare presence of mind on Carrick's part had prompted an instant
application of the brakes which had undoubtedly prevented a collision
although it had very nearly hurled him and his companion from their
seats. The steed for a fraction of a second had been petrified with
fear. Then it had reared violently, thrown its rider, and
panic-stricken, had turned and fled in the direction of its coming.

Carter, kneeling, gently placed the girl's head against his shoulder,
while he passed an arm around her the better to support the relaxed
body. He looked helplessly at the Cockney.

"Wasn't there some one with her?" he inquired, with the memory of a
meteoric vision of another rider fleeing back along the road on a
plunging, squealing steed.

"Yes, Mr. Carter, a young chap in uniform. 'Is 'oss bolted too, sir. 'E
stuck on all right though. We've certainly 'ad a bad day for a start,
don't you think, sir?"

Calvert did not answer; he was bending anxiously over the still face,
praying for a sign of life. He was appalled by the girl's beauty and a
twofold fear possessed him. He feared she was dea