“That jacky is out for the hundred thousand francs, and he's working on his own hook this time, my boy. He's after the reward, and he's the only one that has been keen enough to find us out. Mark me, he is working alone. “Sure, he is,” added Turk. “He's got no pardners in th' job, er he'd a' had em along to-night. S'pose he'd run into a gang like this alone if he had anybody t' fall back on? Not on your life. We're a mighty tough gang, an' he takes no chances with us if he's workin' fer anybody else.” “We're not a tough gang!” wailed Lady Jane, in tears. “Oh, what will become of us!” “The Lord only knows, if we fail to get both Dorothy and Courant,” said Quentin, in real anguish. “They may be in Luxemburg by this time,” said Saxondale. “Gad, this is working in the dark!” “That road down there don't go t' Luxemburg direct, m' lord,” quickly interposed Turk. “It goes off into th' hills, don't you remember? An' then out th' valley some place 'way to th' north. If he'd been goin' to th' city he'd 'a' taken th' road back here an' kep' from goin' down th' hill.” “You're right, Turk,” exclaimed Lord Bob. “He has gone up the valley, headed for one of the little towns, and will steer clear of the Luxemburg officers for fear they may demand a part of the reward.” “God, Saxondale, are those horses never coming?” fumed Quentin. “I won't wait!” and he was off like a madman through the gate and down the steep. Behind him tore Turk, the faithful. XXVIII. THE GAME OF THE PRIEST When Turk pitched over the crouching form of the priest and into the dark chasm beyond Dorothy for the first time began to appreciate the character of her cowled rescuer. Panting and terrified, she looked into his hideously exultant face as he rose and peered over the ledge after the luckless pursuer. It was not the face of a holy man of God, but that of a creature who could laugh in the taking of a human life. “Come on!” he cried, grasping her by the wrist with no gentle regard. “He's out of the way, but we have no time to lose. The others may miss you at any moment, and we must be in the wood if we hope to fool them.” “I have changed my mind--” she began, holding back as he dragged her after him down the slope. “It is too late,” he said, harshly. “You will soon be with your friends, my child. Do not lose heart, but trust to me.” “Who are you? You are not a priest. Why have you disguised yourself--” “Not so loud, my child, not so loud! They may have guards even here. If I am not a priest, then may heaven shut its gates on me forever. Because I am a man and have undone one of your enemies, you should not question my calling. It is no time for prayer. When we are safe from pursuit, you will regret the doubt you have just expressed. Trust to me, my child. But run, for God's sake, run! Don't hang back when all depends on our speed in the next half-hour.”