The chauffeur--who was none other than the Count in disguise--touched his cap, and the car began to move slowly down the drive. Mr. and Mrs. Pyle walked beside it, responding to Elaine’s lively sallies in their slow, embarrassed way, and feeling several inches taller than they had felt an hour ago. At last the car reached the gates and turned into the road. Wilhelm glanced ahead and saw that the way was clear, after which he looked back over his shoulder at Elaine, who replied, with an almost imperceptible nod. Then suddenly the car leaped forward like a thing alive, and the next instant it was thundering along the road with the speed of an express train. Mr. Pyle let out a cry of alarm, but no thought of treachery crossed his mind. He merely thought the chauffeur had made a mistake, and had increased the speed of the machine instead of shutting off the power. “Stop! stop!” he shouted, running after the car. “Shut off your engine and put on your brakes!” Mrs. Pyle meanwhile stood still and wrung her hands. She was certain that the big car was running wild and that a terrible accident was imminent. Then an extraordinary thing occurred. The dignified Mrs. Brook-White--or, rather, the lady who Mr. and Mrs. Pyle believed to be Mrs. Brook-White--turned around in her seat with a mocking laugh, and daintily blew them a farewell kiss. Mr. Pyle could hardly believe his eyes. To use his own words, he was “completely flabbergasted.” He pulled up with a gasp of incredulous bewilderment, and even as he did so, the car swung around a turn in the road and vanished from sight. It was evident that Tommy Pyle was to have a much longer ride than either he or his grandparents anticipated, but where that ride would end, no one could say--except “Mrs. Brook-White,” her eminently respectable-looking chauffeur, and certain of the leading members of The Order of the Philosopher’s Stone. CHAPTER XIII. NICK COMES TO MEADOWVIEW. It was quite true, as Mr. Pyle had heard, that Francis Massey had sent for Nick Carter. He had first left the case in the hands of the local police, but when at the end of a week they had frankly confessed that they were baffled, he had wired for Nick Carter. The detective promptly responded to the summons, and arrived at Meadowview in one of his private cars, accompanied by Chick and Captain, their police dog. Massey received them in the study, his right hand swathed in bandages, and his left arm in a sling. “If I had followed my own inclination,” he said, “I should have sent for you at first. I was persuaded to place the matter in the hands of the police, but although they have been searching and investigating and inquiring and cross-examining for just a week, they’re as far as ever from discovering any clew to the identity of the scoundrels. I sincerely trust you will be more successful.” The detective looked a little dubious.