"Drink that, my lord, and pull yourself together," he said, in a matter-of-fact way. "That's right," as Heyton stretched out a shaking hand and poured some of the spirit down his throat and some over his waistcoat. "Now, you'll want some money. Oh, I know! You wanted it badly or you wouldn't have played this idiotic game. In this bag is some gold. When you get to Harbin, you will find some more waiting for you. I'll take it upon myself to arrange all that. Don't take much luggage: just a change and a tooth-brush. Say you're going to town on business, any business you can think of that requires your immediate presence. And, mind! don't stop on the way; go straight through: you'll find the trains fit in. I won't add, 'Keep your mouth shut'; you'll do that; unless"--he nodded significantly at the empty glass--"you take too much of that. That's rather a weakness of yours, Lord Heyton: master it, or it'll master you. Now, there's no time to lose. I'll order a brougham for you. Come, pull yourself together. Man!"--his disgust, impatience broke out, for the first time--"try to think what you're running away from! It's a long rope, and it'll take you all your time and wits to get beyond its reach. And think of the risk I'm running; I'm compounding a felony. I--Harry Jacobs!" Heyton rose, clutching at the table, chair; his quivering lips opened and shut; at last he cried hoarsely, "Damn you!" "That's all right, my lord," said Mr. Jacobs. "I'm glad I've roused your spirit. Here, pull yourself together--your face is giving you away. Upstairs and pack! The carriage will be waiting." He held open the door; and Heyton, with a glance at him which meant murder, passed out. Half an hour later, Celia saw Lord Heyton enter the brougham. "Is Lord Heyton going away?" she asked, with surprise, as she saw the footman place a small portmanteau on the box. She hurried into the hall as she spoke, and it was Mr. Jacobs, who was standing there with Mrs. Dexter, who answered her. "Yes, Miss Grant," he said. "Lord Heyton has been called away on most important business. Most unfortunate! But there was no help for it." He waited until Mrs. Dexter had gone, then, with his eyes fixed on Celia's face, he said to her, "Will you please tell the Marquess that Lord Heyton has gone? And you might say that his return is quite uncertain; in fact--er--he has gone abroad." Celia's ingenuous countenance expressed her surprise, which seemed to satisfy Mr. Jacobs. "Now," he said, briskly, "I'm going to see the prisoner, Mr. Sydney Green." The colour rose to Celia's face; but her eyes met Mr. Jacobs' steadily. "Have you any message for him, Miss Grant?" "Yes," said Celia in a low voice and after a pause. "Will you tell him, please, that I will come to him, if--if I am allowed to do so?"