The Russian remained mute, still livid with terror.

“But what made them let us go?” demanded Tuppence suspiciously.

“I reckon Monsieur Kramenin here asked them so prettily they just couldn’t refuse!”

This was too much for the Russian.  He burst out vehemently: 

“Curse you—­curse you!  They know now that I betrayed them.  My life won’t be safe for an hour in this country.”

“That’s so,” assented Julius.  “I’d advise you to make tracks for Russia right away.”

“Let me go, then,” cried the other.  “I have done what you asked.  Why do you still keep me with you?”

“Not for the pleasure of your company.  I guess you can get right off now if you want to.  I thought you’d rather I tooled you back to London.”

“You may never reach London,” snarled the other.  “Let me go here and now.”

“Sure thing.  Pull up, George.  The gentleman’s not making the return trip.  If I ever come to Russia, Monsieur Kramenin, I shall expect a rousing welcome, and——­”

But before Julius had finished his speech, and before the car had finally halted, the Russian had swung himself out and disappeared into the night.

“Just a mite impatient to leave us,” commented Julius, as the car gathered way again.  “And no idea of saying good-bye politely to the ladies.  Say, Jane, you can get up on the seat now.”

For the first time the girl spoke.

“How did you ‘persuade’ him?” she asked.

Julius tapped his revolver.

“Little Willie here takes the credit!”

“Splendid!” cried the girl.  The colour surged into her face, her eyes looked admiringly at Julius.

“Annette and I didn’t know what was going to happen to us,” said Tuppence.  “Old Whittington hurried us off.  We thought it was lambs to the slaughter.”

“Annette,” said Julius.  “Is that what you call her?”

His mind seemed to be trying to adjust itself to a new idea.

“It’s her name,” said Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide.

“Shucks!” retorted Julius.  “She may think it’s her name, because her memory’s gone, poor kid.  But it’s the one real and original Jane Finn we’ve got here.”

“What?” cried Tuppence.

But she was interrupted.  With an angry spurt, a bullet embedded itself in the upholstery of the car just behind her head.

“Down with you,” cried Julius.  “It’s an ambush.  These guys have got busy pretty quickly.  Push her a bit, George.”

The car fairly leapt forward.  Three more shots rang out, but went happily wide.  Julius, upright, leant over the back of the car.

“Nothing to shoot at,” he announced gloomily.  “But I guess there’ll be another little picnic soon.  Ah!”

He raised his hand to his cheek.

“You are hurt?” said Annette quickly.

“Only a scratch.”

The girl sprang to her feet.