In a minute she was inside the machine, the door closed behind her, and was sitting by the driver, who did not speak. “Is Mr. Brixan with Mr. Knebworth?” she asked. He did not reply. She thought he had not heard her, until he turned with a wide sweep and set the car going in the opposite direction. “This is not the way to Mr. Knebworth’s,” she said in alarm. “Don’t you know the way?” Still he made no reply. The machine gathered speed, passed down a long, dark street, and turned into a country lane. “Stop the car at once!” she said, terrified, and put her hand on the handle of the door. Instantly her arm was gripped. “My dear, you’re going to injure your pretty little body, and probably spoil your beautiful face, if you attempt to get out while the car is in motion,” he said. “Sir Gregory!” she gasped. “Now don’t make a fuss,” said Gregory. There was no mistaking the elation in his voice. “You’re coming up to have a little bit of supper with me. I’ve asked you often enough, and now you’re going willy-nilly! Stella’s there, so there’s nothing to be afraid of.” She held down her fears with an effort. “Sir Gregory, you will take me back at once to my lodgings,” she said. “This is disgraceful of you!” He chuckled loudly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you; nobody’s going to hurt you, and you’ll be delivered safe and sound; but you’re going to have supper with me first, little darling. And if you make a fuss, I’m going to turn the car into the first tree I see and smash us all up!” He was drunk—drunk not only with wine, but with the lust of power. Gregory had achieved his object, and would stop at nothing now. Was Stella there? She did not believe him. And yet it might be true. She grasped at the straw which Stella’s presence offered. “Here we are,” grunted Gregory, as he stopped the car before the Towers door and slipped out on to the gravel. Before she realized what he was doing, he had lifted her in his arms, though she struggled desperately. “If you scream I’ll kiss you,” growled his voice in her ear, and she lay passive. The door opened instantly. She looked down at the servant standing stolidly in the hall, as Gregory carried her up the wide stairway, and wondered what help might come from him. Presently Penne set her down on her feet and, opening a door, thrust her in. “Here’s your friend, Stella,” he said. “Say the good word for me! Knock some sense into her head if you can. I’ll come back in ten minutes, and we’ll have the grandest little wedding supper that any bridegroom ever had.” The door was banged and locked upon her before she realized there was another woman in the room. It was Stella. Her heart rose at the sight of the girl’s white face. “Oh, Miss Mendoza,” she said breathlessly, “thank God you’re here!” CHAPTER XXXVI THE ESCAPE “DON’T start thanking God too soon,” said Stella with ominous calm. “Oh, you little fool, why did you come here?”