"Most fortunately I saw you leaving the Regent's Hall," he replied. "This cab was waiting for you, and you only. The man refused at least one fare to my presence. The others followed in a brougham. Do you know them?" "No. I have never, to my knowledge, seen either of them before in my life. How came you----" "I happened to hear your address. I will write to you and explain. Go now," he quickly interrupted, for Victor and his friend were approaching them after a hasty conference. "Leave you to deal with these assassins alone! Not I! I can defend myself. I can help you. I will scream for assistance. There are too many of them for you to resist them single-handed." Philip vowed afterward that fire flashed in her eyes. There was a splendid passion in the gesture with which she pointed to the enraged hansom driver, who had climbed from his perch, and was running to join his employers. This was a new experience for Philip, and the blood leaped in his veins at the girl's courageous words. But he laughed, in his pleasant, musical way. "Men who would attack a defenseless woman," he said, "are poor creatures where a man's heart is needed. Now just watch me, and don't be alarmed." He strode to meet the advancing trio. They halted. "I give you a last warning," he cried. "Drive off in your carriage, and you," to the cabman, "go back and help your horse. You must go now, this instant, or take the consequences." There was the silence of indecision. This strong-faced man, with the figure of an athlete, meant what he said. Victor caught his friend's arm. "Come away," he whispered. "She does not know you. You have failed this time." Without another word the pair crossed the road to their waiting brougham. The cabman, who became remarkably sober, began to whine: "It's on'y a lark, guv'nor. The lydy would ha' took no 'arm. I didn't mean----" Philip was strongly tempted to kick him, but refrained. He grasped the man's shoulder and lifted his badge to the light. "I will spare you for the lady's sake," he said, grimly, "but I want your number, in case you try any more such tricks." "My Gawd, it's Mr. Anson!" For the first time the driver saw Philip's face clearly. "Ah, you know me then? Who were those blackguards who employed you?" "S'elp me, sir, I on'y know one of 'em. 'E's a Mr. Victor Grenier. I offen pick 'im up at the Gardenia. 'E said 'is pal was sweet on the young lydy an' wanted a put-up job ter 'elp 'er. That's all, guv'nor, on me life." "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," was Philip's only comment. He rejoined the girl, who was watching the retreating brougham. "Now," he cried, pleasantly, "you can go home." "Please drive me there. I will not deprive you of your cab." So they drove away together, and the driver of the hansom, striving to free his vehicle from the broken trestles, paused to scratch his head. "'E fairly bested the crowd," he growled, "an' got the girl as well. My eye, but she's a beauty." CHAPTER XV.