"I'll be back in an hour, my lass, and bring Abel Head along with me. He's plenty of time on his hands with these new restrictions in force." It was Tom Thrush's voice; he was going to the Sherwood Inn. What a stroke of luck! Such a chance would not occur again. Carl Meason chuckled savagely as he heard Tom's footsteps die away in the distance. Creeping out he felt his way back to the motor along the wall, made sure all was right; the lights were low and covered by a dark protection which entirely obliterated them. He had taken every precaution and knew the way in the dark; he had only to keep to the road and get clear away with Jane. Nobody was likely to be motoring on such a night. He was still disguised. He wondered if she would recognize his voice, he could alter it cleverly. He banged at the door as though he had stumbled against it in the dark. Jane was nervous, more so than she had been since her return. The noise startled her; it could not be her father returning, still there was a chance. She listened. The knock came again, louder. She opened the cottage door; the light from the lamp shone on the outer door leading to the road. "Who's there?" she asked, bravely, although her heart quaked. "I've lost my way. I want to get to Little Trent," said Carl, in a muffled voice. "Go straight on," she said; "it's not far." "Who lives here?" "Thomas Thrush, Captain Chesney's gamekeeper." "That's lucky; I know him. May I come in for a few minutes? I'm tired." She hardly knew what to say. If she refused he could force his way in; whoever he was, she thought it better to grant his request; it was a bad night to be out. She opened the door and Carl stepped through. He walked into the cottage. "Thanks," he said; "is Mr. Thrush in?" Jane hesitated a moment; then said: "He's gone out; he will not be long. You know my father?" "Quite well." Something in his appearance was familiar; she looked at him curiously. His eyes fascinated her; they were like a snake's, the eyes of Carl Meason, her husband, as she remembered them to have looked several times. It suddenly occurred to her that he might be her husband disguised; she was almost certain it was. What must she do? Carl watched her. He caught signs that she recognized him, he had not much time to lose, he must make good use of it and act at once. "It's me, my lady; I see you know me. Why did you run away from me?" he said. "What have you come here for in this disguise?" she said. "To take you away. I am running great risks, but I want you, Jane, and I think you're worth it. You ought to be flattered." She must parley with him until her father and Abel were at hand. "I shall not go with you," she said firmly. "Oh, yes, you will; I think I can persuade you," he said, looking threateningly at her. "You have given me away; that was not proper for a wife." She said nothing. If only she could detain him.