He took the girl’s trembling arm and led her toward the house. “He went out for a little walk in the grounds,” he explained, “and they pounced on him. No, they didn’t hurt him. There were three of the rascals.” “Where are they?” asked Frank. “Gone--there was a motor-car waiting for them at the end of the lane. The policeman has gone after them in the hope that they have a breakdown.” He led the way to the sitting-room. “Peter is with your father. Sit down, you want a little wine, I think”--her face was very white--“I’ll tell you all about it. I didn’t quite swallow that friendly notice on the wicket. I grew more suspicious when I failed to see any footmarks on the road to support the abduction theory. Then of a sudden it occurred to me that the whole thing was a scheme to get us out of the house whilst they had time to remove your father. “When I got back to the wicket I made another hurried search of the garden and happed upon the tool-house by luck. The first thing I saw was your father lying on a heap of wood trussed and gagged. I had hardly released him when I heard a voice outside. Three men were crossing the lawn toward the wicket. It was too dark to see who they were, but I ran out and called upon them to stop.” “We heard firing,” said the girl. Amber smiled grimly. “This was their answer,” he said; “I followed them to the road. They fired at me again, and I replied. I rather fancy I hit one.” “You are not hurt?” she asked anxiously. “My lady,” said Amber gaily, “I am unscathed.” “But I don’t understand it,” persisted Frank. “What did the beggars want to take the governor for?” Amber shook his head. “That is beyond my----” He stopped suddenly. “Let us take a look at the library,” he said, and led them to the room. “Hullo, I thought I turned this light out!” The light was blazing away, the gas flaring in the draught made by the open door. Well might it flare, for the window was open. So, too, was the door of the safe hanging wretchedly on one hinge. Amber said nothing--only he whistled. “So that was why they lured us from the house,” he said softly. “This is Whitey’s work, and jolly clever work too.” CHAPTER XIX AMBER RUNS AWAY “I wish you would let me come with you,” begged the young man, but Amber shook his head. “You stay here,” he said. He was dressed in a thick motor coat and a tweed cap was pulled down over his forehead. The girl had made him some tea and prepared a little meal for him. He looked at his watch. “One o’clock,” he said, “and here’s the car.” The soft hum of a motor-car as it swung in a circle before the door of the house came to them. “I’m afraid I’m late, sir.” It was the constable, who lifted his cycle from the tonneau as he spoke. “But I had some difficulty in collecting the people together, and my report at the station took me longer than I thought. We have wired to headquarters, and the main roads leading into London are being watched.”