"Then, about a week ago, Crispin saw me. It was in one of the Treliss lanes, and we met face to face. He just gave me one look and passed on, but since then I've had to be terribly careful. All the same I've made my plans. All that was needed was her consent to them, and that, until to-night, she has steadily refused to give. However, something worse than usual has broken her down. What he has been doing to her I don't know, I dare not think--but to-night I've got to get her out. I've _got_ to, or never show my face anywhere again. Now I've told you this as quickly as I could. Will you help me?" Harkness stood up holding out his hand: "Yes," he said, "I will." "It can be beastly, you know." "That's all right." "You don't mind what happens?" "I don't mind what happens." "Sportsman." The two men shook hands. They sat down again. Dunbar spread out a paper on the little green-topped table. "This is a rough plan of the house," he said. "I can't draw, but I think you can make this out. "Please forgive this childish drawing," he said again. "It's the best I can do. I think it makes the main things plain. Here's the house, the tower over the sea, the wood, the garden, the high road. [Illustration] "Now look at this other plan of the second floor. [Illustration] "You'll see from this that Hesther's room is at the very end of the house and her husband's room next to hers. The two guest rooms are empty, and there are no other bedrooms on that floor. The picture gallery runs right along the whole floor. The small library is a rather cheerful bright room. Crispin has put his prints in there, some on the walls, the rest in solander boxes. The large library is a gaunt, dusty deserted place hung with heads of many animals that one of the Pontifexes (the real owners of the place) shot at some time or other. No one ever goes there. In fact this second floor is generally deserted. Crispin spends his time either in the tower or on the ground floor. He is in the small library playing about with his prints some of the time though. "Now, my plan is this. I have told Hesther everything to the very tiniest detail, and all that she had to do was to send word at any moment that she agreed to it. That she has now done. "To-night at one o'clock I am going to be up the high road under the shadow of the wood at the back of the kitchen garden with a jingle and pony----" "A jingle?" asked Harkness. "Yes, a jingle is Cornish for a pony trap. The obvious thing for me to have had was a car, but after thinking about it I decided against it for a number of reasons. One of them was the noise that it makes in starting, then it might easily stick over the ground that we shall have to cover, then I fancy that it will be the first thing that Crispin will look for if he starts in pursuit. We have only to go three miles anyway, and most of it over the turf of the moor." "Only three miles?" Harkness asked.