elief, for it had been becoming a problem whether her aunt
would retire in time to allow her to get away unquestioned. It was quite
on the cards that the energetic old spinster might have offered to
accompany her if she had said that she was going for a stroll in the
gardens before going to bed.

As it was, she was free to make her preparations without interference,
and going out into the hall she provided herself with a motoring cap and
a heavy golf cloak. Returning to the drawing-room, she was about to
leave by one of the French windows when it occurred to her that as her
"stroll in the garden" was to-night an excuse for a more extended
expedition, it might be as well to take precautions against her being
locked out. She rang the bell and ordered the butler not to lock the
window, but to merely leave it on latch. She explained that she was
going to enjoy the beauty of the night in the open air, and might not
have returned when he went his rounds to see that all was secure.

"And don't trouble to sit up for me, Watson," she added. "I have a
headache, and may be out some little while."

"Shall I leave the lamps lighted, miss?" asked the butler.

"In the drawing-room and in the hall," was the reply. "I will make
myself responsible for putting them out when I come in."

The man bowed and retired, concealing with the tact of the well-trained
servant the surprise with which the cap and cloak inspired him. He was
aware that his young mistress was in the habit of walking in the grounds
at a late hour, but he had never previously received such an order about
not sitting up, nor had he known her to take precautions by putting on
additional wraps.

"I've got my plate chest to think about," the faithful servitor muttered
as he made his way back to his pantry. "Miss Violet is always
considerate, but I'm blessed if I'm going to turn in while that window's
only on latch. It appears to me she isn't in a hurry to come in
to-night."

Having got rid of Watson, Violet lost no time in starting to carry out
the project on which she was so feverishly bent. Along the noble avenue,
lit now by only a few pale stars in an opaque sky, she flitted like a
nymph of the night, only checking her footsteps as she passed the
lodge, lest she should awake the sleeping inmates. Out on the high road
she commenced running, and so neared the clump of trees where she was to
find the car. Nugent's carefully modulated voice hailed her from the
darkness.