Jane reacted promptly to the fierce imperative, and sniffingly choked back her tears.  Suddenly her eyes fell on the little package from the chemist which she still held clutched in her hand.

“The artfulness of her!” she ejaculated indignantly.  “Asking me to go along to the chemist’s and bring her back some aspirin for her headache!  And me, like a fool, suspecting nothing, off I goes!  There’s the stuff!”—­viciously flinging the chemist’s parcel on to the floor.  “Eh!  Miss Molly’ll have more than a headache to face, I’m thinking!”

“But she mustn’t, Jane!  We’ve got to get her back, somehow.”

Though Sara spoke with such assured conviction, she was inwardly racked with anxiety.  What could they do—­two forlorn women?  And to whom could they turn for help?  Miles?  He was lame.  He was no abler to help than they themselves.  And Selwyn was away, out of reach!

“We must get her back,” she repeated doggedly.

“And how, may I ask, Miss Sara?” inquired Jane bitterly.  “Be you goin’ to run after the motor-car, mayhap?”

For a moment Sara was silent.  The sarcastic query had set the spark to the tinder, and now she was thinking rapidly, some semblance of a plan emerging at last from the chaotic turmoil of her mind.

Garth Trent!  He could help her!  He had a car—­Sara did not know its pace, but she was certain Trent could be trusted to get every ounce out of it that was possible.  Between them—­he and she—­they would bring Molly back to safety!

She turned swiftly to Jane Crab.

“Come to the stable and help me put in the Doctor’s pony, Jane.  You know how, don’t you?”

“Yes, miss, I’ve helped the master many a time.  But you ain’t going to catch no motor with old Toby, Miss Sara.”

“No, I don’t expect to.  I’m gong to drive across to Far End.  Mr. Trent will help us.  Don’t worry, Jane”—­as the two made their way to the stable and Jane strangled a sob—­“we’ll bring Miss Molly back.  And, listen!  Mrs. Selwyn isn’t to hear a word of this.  Do you understand?  If she asks you anything, tell her that Miss Molly and I are dining out.  That’ll be true enough, too,” added Sara grimly, “if we dine at all!”

Jane sniffed, and swallowed loudly.

“Yes, miss,” she said submissively.  “You and Miss Molly are dining out.  I won’t forget.”

CHAPTER XVII

THEY WHO PURSUED

Selwyn’s pony had rarely before found himself hustled along at the pace at which Sara drove him.  She let him take his time up the hills, knowing, as every good horse-woman knows, that if you press your horse against the hill, he will only flag the sooner and that you will lose more than you gain.  But down the hills and along the flat, Sara, with hands and whip, kept Toby going at an amazing pace.  Perhaps something of her own urgency communicated itself to the good-hearted beast, for he certainly made a great effort and brought her to Far End in a shorter time than she had deemed possible.