Reggie Beauchamp was generally a clean-mouthed man, but the tea-party old ladies of Ottermouth would have banned him for evermore could they have heard the sultry oath that flew from his lips as he realized the truth of the assertion. Simon Brant, near enough now for his loathsome personality to be appreciated, was making insulting gestures at them with the hand which he had just withdrawn from the engine-room telegraph. And like a hound slipped from the leash the _Cobra_ leapt forward and went racing to the south-west at forty knots--a speed which would quickly reduce her to a speck upon the horizon. And after that--chaos! CHAPTER XXVIII TRAVERS NUGENT PAYS After letting himself in through the door from the moor into the grounds of The Hut, Travers Nugent paused irresolute. Should he punish that impudent hussy Enid Mallory by keeping her in the grotto all night and have her accidentally "found" in the morning, or should he go and release her now? In either case he meant to throw the blame on Tuke, whom he could describe as an irresponsible lunatic--or anything else that came into his head at the time. He need not be too nice about his excuses, for, after all, the girl, as a trespasser on his private property, was the real offender. It would be interesting to know what account she would give of herself. On the whole he decided that it would be wiser to go and let her out at once, and so have done with an incident which he regretted as a blunder on the part of his too zealous follower. Mr. Vernon Mallory was a dangerous man to annoy, and, conscious as he was of his veiled antagonism, Nugent did not want to give him cause for open quarrel. Till the _Cobra_ had reached her destination, and all traces of her had been obliterated, Bhagwan Singh's agent knew that he would have to walk warily indeed. So he struck into the shrubbery, and on coming to the grotto unlocked the door with the key which Tuke had left in the keyhole. With a curious qualm that was not exactly alarm he saw that his kind offices would not be needed, and that the lies he had framed might remain unspoken. For the electric torch which he flashed on the gloomy interior showed it to be untenanted, while the gaping hole in the roof told of the way of escape. Nugent stared at the improvised ladder of fertilizer kegs, and at the aperture overhead, with a thoughtful frown. "That is hardly girl's work, yet she cannot have had help," he muttered. "If she had contrived to attract attention, no one would have been at the pains of breaking open the roof for her when the key was on the outside of the door all the time. Certainly she had hours to do it in; and she's more than half a boy."