'A hundred, my lord, in half an hour,' said Wogan, and shook himself free. He must warn the Parson and turn him back from the house. But he was too late. In the doorway of the house he met Mr. Kelly, whose face wore a singular air of content. And on the other side of the road stood Scrope with his head turned towards the doorway. Scrope knew that the Parson had come. Mr. Wogan took Kelly's arm, and led him to the shady side of the street, out of the noisy crowd of lackeys and link-boys. 'Those divines err,' said Kelly, 'who condemn the occasional casting of lots. It is not an ill game.' 'Then you found our lurking luck?' 'Six rouleaux of gold,' said Mr. Kelly, tenderly caressing his pocket. 'The sinews of war, and we are like to need them.' 'Then the coast is not clear?' 'Clear!' said Wogan, 'there is every sign of thunder, wind, and earthquake. First, Montague is here!' 'And here is his Capulet!' said Kelly smiling. Wogan smiled too, having secured his duel with the Colonel. 'Then Miss Townley is here, and, George, she was wearing my lady's miniature. The women know each other.' George's mouth opened, and his utterance was stayed. Then, 'It is a trap. I go home,' he said. Despair spoke in his voice. 'No!' Mr. Wogan's plans had changed. 'Why not? I have no more to lose, and my duty to do.' 'You do not go home, for Scrope is watching the house. He has seen you come. He is behind us now.' Mr. Kelly's hand went to his sword, but Wogan checked him. 'Don't let him think you know. We must leave the house together, and your duty is to be just now where Miss Townley is. Be quick!' The argument had weight with Mr. Kelly. Wogan had his reasons for advancing it. If they went away together, later, Wogan could engage Mr. Scrope's attentions while the Parson went safely on to Ryder Street. The two passed out of the shade, but not before George had placed his hand in Wogan's. His hand was cold as ice. CHAPTER XVII LADY OXFORD'S 'COUP DE THEATRE.' The Parson, when the two friends had climbed the crowded stairs, began making his way towards his fate and Lady Oxford's table, with a smile on his face. He did not see Rose, who was a little apart, hidden from him by a group of strangers. Wogan was about joining her, when a woman's voice whispered in his ear: 'You are mad!' The voice was Lady Mary's. 'You are mad, both of you! He should be halfway to the coast by now. What brings him here? I wrote, or rather I sent to him.' 'True,' said Wogan, remembering the letter which he had picked up in the Parson's lodging, and slipped into his pocket. It had been thrust clean out of his mind at the Deanery by those more pressing questions as to how the Blow had been discovered, and how they were to escape from the consequences of the discovery. He drew it out, still sealed up. 'He has not opened it?' she asked.