Let's rout him out. We'll need some one to hold the horses if we have
to force our way into Shaw's house."
The count was not thoroughly awake until he found himself in the
saddle some time later; it is certain that he did not know until long
afterward why they were riding off into the storm. He fell so far
behind his companions in the run down the road that he could ask no
questions. Right bravely the trio plunged into the dark territory
over which the enemy ruled. It was the duke who finally brought the
cavalcade to a halt by propounding a most sensible question.
"Are you sure she came this way, Cecil?"
"Certainly. This is Shaw's way, isn't it?"
"Did she say she was going to Shaw's?"
"Don't know. Evelyn told me. Hang it all, Barminster, come along.
We'll never catch up to her."
"Is she riding?"
"No--horses all in."
"Do you know, we may have passed her. Deuce take it, Bazelhurst, if
she's running away from us, you don't imagine she'd be such a silly
fool as to stand in the road and wait for us. If she heard us she'd
hide among the trees."
"But she's had an hour's start of us."
"Where ees she coming to?" asked the count, with an anxious glance
upward just in time to catch a skirmishing raindrop with his eye.
"That's just it. We don't know," said the duke.
"But I must find her," cried Lord Cecil. "Think of that poor girl
alone in this terrible place, storm coming up and all that. Hi,
Penelope!" he shouted in his most vociferous treble.
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