At one moment the light-blue and silver gleam of his motor would flash through the midsummer green of trees overshadowing some lane ahead of us. Again he would appear a little behind and to the left. Presently, again, to the right.... "That friend of yours seems to know the country considerable well," remarked the American to me. "Looks like as if he was chasing butterflies all over it. Is he a great Nature-lover, Miss Smith?" "I couldn't tell you," I said vaguely, and feeling rather annoyed. "I don't know this Mr. Burke at all well." "Is that so?" said the young American gravely. Near Lewes we lost sight of that glittering car; it seemed finally. I felt thoroughly relieved at that. He was a most embarrassing sort of travelling companion, the Honourable Jim! CHAPTER XXIV WE SEEK "THE REFUGE" WE (Mr. Jessop and I) drove slowly to the first post-office. There we both alighted. And I in my impatience fairly flung myself against the long counter with its wirework screen that fenced off the post-office girls. They stared curiously at the anxious-looking young woman in black and the grey-clad, unmistakably American young man, who both at once began to make inquiries about a certain telegram which had been handed in there at half-past seven o'clock the evening before. "Are you the person to whom the telegram was addressed?" one of the girls asked almost suspiciously. "Yes. I am Miss Smith. You see! Here is an envelope addressed to me at the Hotel Cecil," I said, feverishly producing that envelope (it belonged to Mr. Brace's last note to me). "Can you tell me who handed in this message?" "I couldn't, I'm sure," said the girl who had spoken suspiciously. "I was off last evening before six." "Can you tell me who was here?" I demanded, fuming at the delay. The girls seemed blissfully unaware that this was a matter of life and death to me. "Miss Carfax was here, I believe," volunteered one of the other girls, in the "parcels" division of the long counter. I asked eagerly: "Which is Miss Carfax, please?" "Just gone to her lunch," the two girls replied at once. "Won't be back until two o'clock." "Oh, dear!" I fretted. Then a third girl spoke up. "Let's have a look at that wire, dear, will you?" she said to the parcels girl. "I think I remember Miss Carfax taking this in. Yes. That's right. 'Why ever don't you send my clothes, Miss Million?' I remember us passing the remark afterwards what an uncommon name 'Million' was." "Oh, do you! How splendid!" I said, all eagerness at once. "Then you remember the young lady who telegraphed?" "Yes----" "A small, rather stumpy young lady," I pursued. "Nice-looking, with bright grey eyes and black hair? She was dressed in a cerise evening frock with a----" The post-office girl shook her head behind the wire screen. "No; that wasn't the one."