He went across the hall into Jim's room, and Jim, who had not spoken, followed him. "Read that," he said, putting the letter into his hand. Jim read it and looked up at him. There was no expression on his face but one of bewilderment. "You think it over," said Dick, a little impatiently, and went to the writing-table and scribbled a note. "Dear Mother,--I thought I would come on here first on the chance of hearing something, and glad I did so. There is a letter from Cicely. It is all right. Jim and I are going up to-morrow morning. Don't worry. "Dick." Then, without taking any notice of Jim, still standing gazing at the letter in his hand with the same puzzled expression on his face, he went out and despatched the groom, closing the hall door after him. He went back into the room and shut that door too. "Well!" he said sharply. "What the devil does it mean?" Jim's expression had changed. It was now angry as well as puzzled. "It was when he went after her on Sunday," he said. "_Damn_ him! I thought----" "Never mind what you thought," said Dick. "When did he see her alone?" "I was going to tell you. When we came over yesterday afternoon he saw her over the wall, and directly we got to the house he bolted off after her. He said he had promised to show her some sketches." "But he didn't find her. He said so at tea-time--when she came out." Jim was silent. "Perhaps that was a blind," said Dick. "How long was it before he came back and said he couldn't find her?" "About half an hour, I should think. Not so much." "He _must_ have found her. But, good heavens! he can't have persuaded her to run away with him in half an hour! He had never been alone with her before." "No." "And he didn't see her alone afterwards." Jim's face suddenly went dark. "He--he--went out after we went up to bed," he said. "What?" "He asked me to leave the door unlocked. He said he might not sleep, and if he didn't he should go out." The two men looked at one another. "That's a nice thing to hear of your sister," said Dick bitterly. "It's a nice thing to hear of a man you've treated as a friend," said Jim. "How long have you known the fellow?" "Oh, I told you. I met him when I was travelling, and asked him to look me up. I haven't seen him since until he wrote and said he wanted to come for a quiet Sunday." "Why did he want to come? I'll tell you what it is, Jim. She must have met him in London, and you were the blind. Yes, that's it. She's been different since she came back. I've noticed it. We've all noticed it." "I don't believe they met before," said Jim slowly. "Why not?" "I don't believe they did. Dick, do you think they can be married already? Is there time to stop it?" "Yes, there's time. I've thought it out. We'll go up by the seven o'clock train. Where does the fellow live?" Jim thought a moment. "I don't know. He wrote from the Royal Societies Club."