Melun gave Kathleen one quick, shrewd glance and then lowered the
shutters; and Kathleen, looking almost lazily out of the window, saw
that they were now almost clear of the park, and, so far as she could
judge by the position of the sun, were running towards the southwest.
The drive continued in complete silence. Mme. Estelle remained red
and awkward, Melun was morose and ill at ease. Kathleen alone was
self-possessed, though pale. She even forbore to ask whither they were
bound, for though sadly tempted to do so, she checked herself with the
rather sad reflection that she would know sooner or later.
By-and-by they drew near to a considerable town, and Melun, in spite of
Kathleen's promise, drew the blind shutters up once more.
He had, however, the grace to be moderately apologetic.
“It is not because I distrust your word, Lady Kathleen,” he said, “but
because I have to take precautions. One does not know who might happen
to look into the car.”
It was not long before Melun lowered the shutters again, and Kathleen's
heart gave a little thump, for looking out on the country she realised
that she was on a familiar road. She recognised the high hedges between
which they were running as those which border the long lane running
between Croydon and Hayes Common.
The car began to shoot up-hill, and they went over a breezy heath,
subsequently running down into the valley, as Kathleen judged, of
Farnborough.
For a little while they kept to the main road and then turned off to
the left again. Half an hour's run brought them to Westerham—from
which place Sir Paul took his title.
As the car turned to the left once more Kathleen had little doubt that
they were bound for Sevenoaks; nor was she wrong.
But the car did not stop here; it swept past the Royal Crown Hotel,
past the old Grammar School, past the wooded stretch of Knole Park,
down the steep and tortuous River Hill.
At Hildenborough the car turned up to the right and raced through
the Weald of Kent. This was all familiar ground to Kathleen, and she
realised that to some extent they were doubling on their tracks, making
a zigzag course along the valley at the base of Ide and Toys Hill.
Suddenly the car stopped, and Kathleen, looking through the open
window, saw the chauffeur get down from the seat and open a gate which
apparently led to a more private path.
Through this the car passed and was swallowed up in a wood. But the
jolting and rattling over ruts soon ceased, the road widened and became
smooth, and they began to climb in curves up the face of a steep hill.
By-and-by they came to a small plateau on the edge of which was an old
farmhouse. The ground dropped almost sheer away from it at the southern
end, while almost the whole of the front of it was washed by a muddy
and apparently deep pool.
As they drew up before the little low doorway Kathleen heard several
great dogs baying at different points.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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