A fourth man had been idling by the side of the path when the car was brought to a standstill. This was a friend of Lowther's, who had been pledged to secrecy. He had further promised to take the car back to the garage, and, if necessary, to swear that it had been handed over to him by Lowther on the Barnet Road. Westerham's subtle mind indeed had thought out arrangements which practically precluded the possibility of their track being picked up and followed with success; though naturally the chances of escape were very strong against him, for, if ever the police had worked, they would of a surety work now. Westerham led the way through the bushes to another roadway, on which was waiting a second car, driven by a second friend of Lowther's on whom reliance could be placed. Westerham bundled Mendip and Lord Penshurst into it, while Lowther climbed up beside his friend. They lost no time, but drove boldly and rapidly back along the same route by which they had come until they arrived at Victoria. There Lowther gave his friend instructions to make for Buckingham Palace. Thence they raced up Constitution Hill into Piccadilly. Lowther had rooms in Stratton Street, which was immensely in favour of Westerham's hopes, inasmuch as few pedestrians and fewer vehicles frequented that aristocratic _cul-de-sac_. The street when they drew up was fortunately quite deserted, and Westerham's plans were further aided by the lucky fact that Lowther's apartments were on the ground floor. Lowther had given them free use of his rooms, and as the Premier was hastily conducted into them he nodded to Westerham in intimation that his part of the business was nearly done. He went out into the street again, and mounting the car drove away. It had been arranged that he should make for Salisbury in case he, too, was followed, and he had immediately agreed to the proposal, tiresome though it was. Mendip did not enter the house, but walked rapidly into Piccadilly, and turning westward, made for the Automobile Club. There his low-built, yellow-painted racing motor-car was waiting for him, and, as he had often done, he took it over from the charge of his man, and, making a detour by way of Curzon Street and Piccadilly, got back to Stratton Street just as Westerham was ready for him. In the interval the Premier had somewhat recovered from the dazed state into which he had been thrown, and indignantly demanded of Westerham the meaning of all his manœuvres. “If you will be good enough to sit down for a few minutes, Lord Penshurst,” Westerham said, “I think I shall be able to make matters a little clearer than they are at present.