“You!” she said in wonder. “Good evening, Miss Reddle. Won’t you sit down?” Chesney was politeness itself and his manners were unimpeachable. “I’m afraid you’ve had a very unhappy experience,” he said. “I only learnt about it this afternoon and I came down immediately to do whatever I could. The doctor tells me that you have been certified.” “That is not true,” she said hotly. “I know very little about the law, but I have been in Mr. Shaddles’ office too long to suppose that any person can be certified as mad by one doctor! Are you going to take me away?” He nodded. “And that other unfortunate woman?” “She may go too,” he said slowly, “on conditions.” She looked at him steadily. “I don’t quite understand you, Mr. Praye.” He motioned her to a chair, but she did not move. “Now listen to me, Miss Reddle. I am taking big risks for your sake. I needn’t particularise them, but if I fail this evening, my future, and probably”--he hesitated to say “liberty”--“at any rate, my future is seriously jeopardised. I’ve made this journey without the knowledge of a person who shall be nameless and I am betraying the trust she has in me. She will not forgive me.” “You mean the Countess of Moron?” she asked quietly. “There is no use in beating about the bush. I refer to the Countess of Moron.” “Am I here by her orders?” He nodded. “But why? What have I ever done to her that she should wish to injure me?” “You will know one of these days,” he said impatiently, “but that is beside the point. I can save you and your mother----” She fell back a pace. “My mother?” she breathed. “That woman,” she pointed her trembling finger to the door--“not my mother?” He nodded. “Here? Oh, my God! Why?” “She’s here for the same reason that you are here,” was his cool reply. “Now, Miss Reddle, you’ve got to be an intelligent being. I want you to be sensible and recognise the sacrifices I am making for you, and to agree to my conditions for taking your mother away from this place.” “What are the conditions?” she asked slowly. “The first is that you marry me!” said Chesney Praye. Chapter Thirty-four She looked at him bewildered, as though she could not grasp the meaning of his words. “That I marry you?” she repeated. “That you marry me to-morrow. I took the precaution this afternoon of going to Doctors’ Commons and securing a special licence, which allows me to be married to-morrow morning. I had some trouble in getting it, but it is here----” he tapped his breast pocket. “Before leaving London I telegraphed to the vicar of Leitworth, a village some thirty miles from here, and asked him to perform the ceremony at ten o’clock to-morrow morning.” His face was white; he was obviously labouring under the stress of some tense emotion. Presently he went on in a lower voice: