"Please, _please_, don't interrupt. You forget the London train! Mr. Wild and I entered The Quiet House garden by night to watch----" "Surely that----" "Yes--yes--yes! Most reprehensible, but you do not know all. We watched, were discovered, and in making our escape Mr. Wild was captured. I have not seen him since." "What!" "For five days I have been alone, miserable, in doubt and anguish. I have wondered, waited, made cautious inquiries. Nothing has happened. What am I to do?" "You suspect----?" queried the vicar in delightful horror. He felt his hair bristling in anticipation. "I do not know ... I can not guess. They say it is high politics--the Turkish government.... A spy.... I do not know what to believe. What can I do?" The vicar, who prided himself on being a business man, mused for a moment, chin on hand. "Suppose," he said brightly, "that Mott, the local policeman, applied for a search-warrant?" "I would rather not invoke the aid of the police, if possible. There may be nothing serious after all, and in that case we should look ridiculous. Besides ... I wondered if you could call?" The vicar seemed pleased, but apprehensive. "Of course," he said, "I would face any danger if necessary and for a good cause. But I have my flock to think of.... If matters are as serious as you suggest, might there not be a second kidnaping? One hesitates to be melodramatic, but the possibilities of...." "They would not dare to touch a minister of the church. There would be an outcry----" "True ... true ... but would they admit me? I have called and been denied. Do you think----" He paused, as a motor-horn sounded from the road. The noise of the engine was plainly heard. A moment later and the gate leading to the drive opened. The vicar walked to the window. "Who can this be?" he said in surprise. "A motor-car, and in the morning! I hope he'll be careful of the borders." Robert joined him at the window, his heart filled with anxious questioning. As he watched the car drive slowly in he clutched the vicar's arm. "She has changed her plan!" he gasped. "It's my wife! You must hide me quick!" "B--but," stammered Mr. Peters, "there's no sense in that! Pull yourself together, Mr. Bangs--Mr. Hedderwick, I mean. You say you have done nothing wrong. Why not face her and get it over at once like a man?" Robert, pallid in face and soul, gripped him more tightly, his knees shaking. The desperate need of the moment scorned the veneer of discretion. "You said you understood," he hissed fiercely. "Do you always stand up to Mrs. Peters?"