“I suppose I must go to see Mr. Wade,” he at last reluctantly decided.  “He may be angry, but he can’t blame me.  I did my best.  I couldn’t stand guard over the young rascal all day.”

The address which the housekeeper had given Frank was that of a policeman’s family in which she was at one time a boarder.  On giving his reference, he was hospitably received, and succeeded in making arrangements for a temporary residence.

About seven o’clock Mrs. Parker made her appearance.  She was fatigued by her journey and glad to rest.

“I was afraid you might be prevented from coming,” said Frank.

“I feared it also.  I was about to start at twelve o’clock, when, to my dismay, one of the men came home.  He said he had the headache.  I was obliged to make him some tea and toast.  He remained about till four o’clock, when, to my relief, he went upstairs to lie down.  I was afraid some inquiry might be made about you, and your absence discovered, especially as the rope was still hanging out of the window, and I was unable to do anything more than cut off the lower end of it.  When the sick man retired to his bed I instantly left the house, fearing that the return of some other of the band might prevent my escaping altogether.”

“Suppose you had met one of them, Mrs. Parker?”

“I did.  It was about half a mile from the house.”

“Did he recognize you?”

“Yes.  He asked in some surprise where I was going.  I was obliged to make up a story about our being out of sugar.  He accepted it without suspicion, and I kept on.  I hope I shall be forgiven for the lie.  I was forced to it.”

“You met no further trouble?”

“No.”

“I must tell you of my adventure,” said Frank.

“I came across the very man whom I most dreaded—­the man who made me a prisoner.”

“Since he knows that you have escaped, he is probably on your track,” said Mrs. Parker.  “It will be hardly safe for you to go to Mr. Wharton’s.”

“Why?”

“He will probably think you likely to go there, and be lying in wait somewhere about.”

“But I must go to Mr. Wharton,” said Frank.  “I must tell him this story.”

“It will be safer to write.”

“The housekeeper, Mrs. Bradley, or John Wade, will get hold of the letter and suppress it.  I don’t want to put them on their guard.”

“You are right.  It is necessary to be cautious.”

“You see I am obliged to call on my grandfather, that is, on Mr. Wharton.”

“I can think of a better plan.”

“What is it?”

“Go to a respectable lawyer.  Tell him your story, and place your case in his hands.  He will write to your grandfather, inviting him to call at his office on business of importance, without letting him know what is the nature of it.  You and I can be there to meet him, and tell our story.  In this way John Wade will know nothing, and learn nothing, of your movements.”