rbst--you admit that?" asked the man in uniform.

The instant those words left his lips I saw that I was trapped. It was,
no doubt, as I had suspected. The superintendent of police at Zerbst had
seen stamped upon the engines the maker's name, "Napier," and this he
had reported by telegraph to Dyer in Dresden. Then a second telegraphic
order had gone forth for my arrest.

"Well," I laughed, "it is surely no crime to admit having been to
Zerbst, is it? There seems an unusual hue-and-cry over this mysterious
Englishman, isn't there? But if you say I must go to the police-office,
I suppose I must. Get up here beside me and show me the way."

The man clambered up, when, in a moment, I put on all speed forward. The
road was wide and open, without a house on it.

"No!" he cried; "back--into the town!"

I, however, made no response, but let the car rip along at a good fifty
miles an hour. She hummed merrily.

"Stop! stop! I order you to stop!" he shouted, but I heeded him not. I
saw that he had grown frightened at the fearful pace we were travelling.

Suddenly, when we had gone about seven miles, I pulled up at a lonely
part of the road, and, pointing my revolver at his head, ordered him to
descend.

He saw that I was desperate. It was a moment for deeds, not words. I saw
him make a movement to draw out his own weapon; therefore, ere he was
aware of it, I struck him a blow full in the face, practically repeating
my tactics with Upton. The fellow reeled out of the car, but before I
could get started again he fired twice at me, happily missing me each
time.

He made a desperate dash to get on the footboard again, but I prevented
him, and in turn was compelled to fire.

My bullet struck his right shoulder, and his weapon fell to the ground.
Then I left him standing in the road, uttering a wild torrent of curses
as I waved my hand in defiant farewell.

A mile from Hanover I threw off my grey beard and other disguise, washed
my face in a brook, abandoned the car, and at three o'clock that
afternoon found myself safely in the express for Brussels, on my way to
Paris, the city which at that moment I deemed safest for me.

From that moment to this I have not been upon German soil.

CHAPTER VII

THE LADY OF THE GREAT NORTH ROAD

It occurred about a month after my return from Germany. A strange
affair, assuredly; and stranger still that my life should have been
spared to relate it.

After luncheon at the Troca