"Marry!" I echoed. "Well, really, Sybil, I don't understand you in the least. Why?" "Because I can, I hope, save myself by marrying," she went on quickly. "To-night I am going into hiding, and not a soul must know of my whereabouts. The place best of all in which to hide oneself is London, in one of the populous working districts. They would never search for me there. As the wife of an industrious working-man I should be safe. To go abroad would be useless." "But why should you leave so hurriedly?" I asked her. "Ah! you will know in due course," was her answer. "Ask me no questions now, only help me to escape." "How?" "Listen, and I will tell you of the plans I have formed. To-night I have thought it all out, and have made resolve. The car is in the shed over against the kennels. I backed it in yesterday, therefore it will run down the hill along the avenue, and right out through the lodge gates without petrol and noiselessly. Once in the Chichester road, I can drive it away without awakening either the house or the Grants who keep the gate. You'll come with me." "Where?" "To London." "And what would people say when it was known that you and I left together in the middle of the night?" "Oh! they'd only say it was one of Tibbie's mad freaks. It is useful sometimes," she added, "to have a reputation for eccentricity. It saves so many explanations." "Yes, that's all very well, but it is not a judicious course in any way." Suddenly I recollected the woman Mason whom I saw at all costs must be got out of the way. As a servant she might get a view of the dead man out of curiosity and identify him as her mistress's lover. "No," I added, after a moment's reflection. "If you really want to escape to London go in exactly the opposite direction. Run across the New Forest to Bournemouth, for instance. Take Mason with you. Go to the Bath Hotel, and then slip away by train say up to Birmingham, and from there to London." "Yes, but I can't take Mason. She must remain in ignorance. She knows far too much of my affairs already." "Well, I can't go with you. It would be madness. And you cannot go alone." She was silent, her lips pressed together, her brows knit. Her countenance was hard and troubled, and there was a look of unmistakable terror in those wonderful eyes of hers. "And if I act on your advice, Wilfrid, will you meet me in secret in London to-morrow or the next day?" "Certainly. I will do all I can to help you--only accept my advice and take Mason with you. Mislead her, just as you are misleading everyone." "You will not think ill of me if I ask you something?" she said, seriously, looking very earnestly up into my face. "Certainly not. You can be perfectly open and straightforward with me, surely." "Then I want you to do something--although I'm almost afraid to ask you." "And what's that?"