“Of course,” said Norah.  “He’s gone to see what they’re doing at the War Office.  He said he would.”

But I knew and she knew and Parker knew he hadn’t—­or, if he had, it was only one of the things he had gone for.  Because, if the War Office had been all that he had in his mind he would have told us, and Viola would have told us, and they would have gone openly together, instead of dodging about like two clumsy criminals, one at Midhurst and the other at Selham.

When Parker had left (he did it very quickly) Norah got on her feet.

She said, “Go and find Kendal and tell him to bring the car around at once.”

I asked her what she was going to do?

“Do?” she flashed at me.  She had changed all in a moment into a woman whom I did not know.

“I’m going to fetch her back,” she said.  She had wriggled into her coat.  “We’ll overtake her before she gets to Selham, if you’re quick.”

I looked at my watch.  It was barely half-past four.  Yes, if we were quick, if we started at once, if we let the new car rip we should overtake her on the road, or at the station before she could get into that train with Charlie Thesiger in it.  I meant, and Norah’s eyes meant, that we would stop her going with him, if we had to drag her from the platform.

We ran to the garage to find Kendal.  The new car, the superb black and white creature, stood in the middle of the courtyard, ready to start when Jimmy’s wire came.  So far it was all right.

But we had reckoned without Kendal, the chauffeur.

Kendal, absolved from the four-sixteen train at Midhurst, was at his tea in the servants’ hall, and at my summons he came out slowly, munching as he came.  He was visibly outraged at our intrusion on his sacred leisure.  And when he was ordered to start at once for Selham, he refused.  There was no train from Victoria, he said, between the four-four that Mr. Jevons hadn’t come by and the five fifty-two. If, Kendal said, he did come by Victoria, and he always came by Waterloo.

What was the sense, said Kendal, with his mouth full, of going to Selham when we hadn’t got a wire?

The sense of it, Norah told him, was that we had a message—­an important message—­for Mrs. Jevons, which she must get before she started.

At this Kendal left off munching and looked at my wife.  Even in my eagerness I was struck by the singular intelligence of that look.  There was nothing covert in it.  On the contrary it was a most straightforward and transparent look.  Kendal’s knowledge—­which might have sought cover if you had hunted it—­had come out to meet ours on equal terms.

It only lasted for the fraction of a second.  Kendal repeated firmly, but this time respectfully, that she was Mr. Jevons’s car and he couldn’t take her out without Mr. Jevons’s orders, for if he did Mr. Jevons would give him the sack.

To which Norah replied that Mr. Jevons would give him the sack if he didn’t, or if he made us miss that train by arguing.  I told him sternly to look sharp.  He looked it and we got off.  I had begun to crank up the car myself while I spoke.