"Now, Mr Naylor," she said, speaking to me in my assumed name, but her voice was shrill with apprehension, "perhaps you will have the goodness to admit that you have been playing a very dangerous game with me and that if I liked I could make it very awkward for you at Scotland Yard for interfering between a warder and an escaped lunatic without proper inquiry or warrant." "Humph," I returned coldly, "I don't know so much about that." And before she could have the slightest notion what I was up to I coolly lowered the carriage window, and tearing her authority quickly into three or four pieces I flung the fragments out on to the railway as the train was whirling along at a rate of about twenty miles an hour. "Man," she stormed, as soon as she saw what I had done, springing to her feet and grabbing me by the arm, "are you mad?" "I hope not," I said courteously. "I try to keep sane, although I admit it is hard sometimes when one meets such odd people." "But do you realise what you have done? You have torn up my warrant." "I know," I returned sadly. "But then it was no good, you see. It was a fraud. It had no more to do with Broadmoor than yonder telegraph post. It was designed to mislead people, and so, to save misconception, I destroyed it." And with a sardonic smile I threw myself back in my seat and folded my arms. "Oh! you shall pay for this," she hissed, her features working convulsively. "Dearly, dearly shall you pay for this! This girl shall never escape me--never!" And she shot out a threatening finger in the direction of poor Camille. "Unfortunately, my dear Mrs Hand," I said in my most lofty tone, "you have come upon the scene a trifle late for heroics like these. As a matter of fact, you are in the awkward position, not I at all. On the whole you have been precipitate, very precipitate, I regret to observe. Thus you never got to know by what right I met Miss Velasquon. You never inquired, indeed. Even when I handed you my card you did not pause and ask yourself whether you were not going just a trifle too far in your rudeness to me and your interference with my good wishes." "Good wishes? Rubbish," she snapped! "My good wishes, I repeat," I said with a good deal of firmness, for was I not about to play my last and most triumphant trump card? "As a matter of fact, those good wishes of mine are very important to you and to these two disguised females whom you drag about with you," and I casually nodded in the direction of the pseudo-nurses, "for long before any of you appeared on the scene I had arrested Camille Velasquon! She was a prisoner, and you have all rendered yourselves liable to punishment for attempting to get her out of my hands!" "Oh, that's impossible," Joan Hand cried; but there was no conviction in her tones, and her two confederates sprang up and made as though they would slip out of the carriage forthwith.