"I fear I must. I cannot take anything out of that awful house--no, never"--with a shudder. "All the things that are now there are like my dead husband--dead to me for ever. I can get what I need in London." "At all events, you must not go alone. You must allow some one to escort you. I am certain my son would be delighted to take you wherever you may wish to go." "It would give me great pleasure," said Alfred eagerly. "You are both, I know, too good and kind to mistake for ungraciousness the refusal which I must give to your offer. I have no alternative but to go alone." "Mrs. Davenport," said Pringle, "I am going to town at once. May I hope you will allow me to see you as far as either Ludgate Hill or Victoria? I am afraid that my want of caution when speaking to you a few minutes ago upstairs may have betrayed me into saying or implying more than I really should. We could talk a little more on the way in." "With your permission, I will go by myself. Farewell;" and, with a bow that included all, she left the room. They saw her walk through the little garden, open the gate, and reach the road. Then they lost sight of her. For a long while no one spoke. Mr. Paulton broke the silence. "I'm very sorry." He did not say for what; he scarcely knew for what. "She's a wonderful woman," said Jerry O'Brien. "I am not surprised at her not speaking to me. She bowed to me as much as to say she knew me. I often met her before, but never saw her in any humour like this. Why, in the name of all that's mysterious, would she not allow any one to go with her? It could not do her any harm for either you or Pringle or Alfred to go with her." "That struck me as most strange," said Mr. Paulton. "We are all friends here," said Pringle. "It doesn't seem strange to me. It seems foolish, though. If they want her they can catch her abroad as well as in England." "Abroad!" said Mr. Paulton, in perplexity. "Surely she is not going abroad before the funeral of her husband. No woman would think of leaving the country before her husband is buried." "Under certain circumstances, a woman might if _an inquest_ was to precede the burial." "Oh, I see." "Now, gentlemen, I think we ought to be able to guess why she would have no luggage, no escort. She is going to disguise herself and fly to the Continent." CHAPTER VII. LIGHT AFTER DARKNESS. When Mrs. Davenport left Paulton she walked straight to Herne Hill railway station. She asked when the next train would start for Victoria, and having learned there would be one in ten minutes, she took a ticket for that terminus, and then sat down on one of the seats on the platform. It was cold, raw, dull, rainless February weather, and she was lightly clad, but she did not mind that. Her thoughts were turned inward, and she had but a dimly reflected idea of things surrounding her.