Quentin and Eva had almost reached the motor which Eva had left at some distance from Old Tom’s shack, and were passing a low clump of bushes, when a low moan fell upon their ears.

At first Locke thought that it might be a trap and was for paying no attention to the sound, but Eva, woman-like, insisted.  He investigated.  Reclining on the ground, and looking more like a little boy in man’s clothes, lay Zita.

She was holding one ankle and her face showed that she must be in great pain.

“Help me,” she moaned.  “When I jumped from the window I sprained my ankle.  Dora helped me to this place and then she left me and drove away.”

Although this girl was his enemy, no thought of leaving her in this condition entered Locke’s mind.  Gently raising her from the ground, with the help of Eva, Locke supported her to the car.

Locke still held Zita to ease her pain, while Eva took the wheel, and, although they could hear shouts and even shots behind them, Eva drove slowly in order not to add to Zita’s misery.  It showed the sympathy of their characters that, much as Locke and Eva felt that Zita had injured them, nevertheless, pausing in a flight from deadly peril, they found it in their hearts to be kind to an enemy.

Arriving at Brent Rock, they carried Zita to her room and the family physician was sent for.  He pronounced the injury slight and more of a strain than a sprain.

While the doctor was at the house he also paid a visit to Brent, who, while his mental condition had remained as apparently hopeless as ever, had gained much in strength, owing to the diet and restful care.  He was now able to sit up, fully dressed.  As it was a case of drug poisoning, the doctor had thought it best not to allow the patient to relax too completely.  But, whatever the strange drug that had stolen away Brent’s reason, the effect showed no signs of departure, and they were as much in the dark as to the antidote as ever.

A few moments after the doctor had left, when he made his morning call the next day, the counsel of the corporation was announced.  He was shown into the library immediately and it was there that Locke and Eva went into conference with him.

The attorney had brought with him many share-holders’ proxies, and these he handed over to Eva.

“These proxies,” he was declaring, “give you absolute control, Miss Brent.  With them you can force Mr. Balcom completely out of International Patents.”

“What’s that you say?”

It was Balcom himself who spoke.  How the man had got past the butler, who certainly had no love for him, was mystifying.  Yet here he was, ready and eager to defend his interests.

“I was just telling Miss Brent,” informed the lawyer, coldly, “that with these proxies which I have obtained and just handed to her, she was in complete control of the company.”

“And you, Mr. Balcom,” interposed Locke, stepping forward, “will play no further part in the activities of the company.  Miss Brent desires your resignation, to take effect immediately.”