A sudden swerve to the right brought them into a lighted and populous thoroughfare.  Italian restaurants, German delicatessen shops, eating places of a dozen other nationalities lined the pavements on both sides of the street, and, in front of these a high-power motor stood, protected by the watchful eye of an accommodating policeman while the chauffeur sampled Chianti in a wine-shop close by.  With a rush and a leap Cleek was upon it, and with another rush and a leap the constable was upon him, only to be greeted with the swift flicking open of a coat and the gleam of a badge that every man in the force knew.

“Cleek?”

“Yes!  In the name of The Yard; in the name of the king! get out of the way!  In with you, Dollops!  We’ll get the brutes yet!”

Then he bent over, threw in the clutch, and discarding all speed laws, sent the car humming and tearing away.

“Hold tight!” he said, through his teeth.  “Whatever comes, we’ve got to get to Burnt Acre Mill inside of an hour.  If you know any prayers, Dollops, say them.”

“The Lord fetch us home in time for supper!” gulped the boy obediently.  “S’help me, Gov’nor, the wind’s goin’ through my teeth like I was a mouth organ—­and I’m hollow enough for a flute!”

CHAPTER XXII

It is strange how, in moments of stress and trial, even in times of tragedy, the most commonplace thoughts will intrude themselves and the mind separate itself from the immediate events.  As Merode put the cold muzzle of the revolver to Ailsa’s temple and she ought, one would have supposed, to have been deaf and blind to all things but the horror of her position, one of these strange mental lapses occurred, and her mind, travelling back over the years of her early schooldays, dwelt on a punishment task set her by her preceptress—­the task of copying three hundred times the phrase “Discretion is the better part of valour.”

As the recollection of that time rose before her mental vision, the value of the phrase itself forced its worth upon her and, huddling back in the corner of the limousine, she clutched the frightened child to her and gave implicit obedience to Merode’s command to make no effort to attract attention either by word or deed.  And he, fancying that he had thoroughly cowed her, withdrew the touch of the weapon from her temple, but held it ready for possible use in the grip of his thin, strong hand.

For a time the limousine kept straight on in its headlong course, then, of a sudden, it swerved to the left, the gleam of a river—­all silver with moonlight—­struck up through a line of trees on one side of the car, the blank unbroken dreariness of a stretch of waste land spread out upon the other; and presently, by the slowing down of the motor, Ailsa guessed that they were nearing their destination.  They reached it a few moments later, and a peep from the window, as the vehicle stopped, showed her the outlines of a ruined watermill—­ghostly, crumbling, owl-haunted—­looming black against the silver sky.