‘Where would you find your witnesses?’ she asked.  ’Leave me alone, and I can be of use to you as no one else can.  Behave shabbily, and you only make yourself look foolish, bringing a charge against your wife that you’ll never be able to prove.  You would get no evidence from me.  Whether you want it kept quiet or want to bring it into court, you depend upon my goodwill.’

They reached the end of the road in which was the approach to Redgrave’s house.

‘You had better wait here,’ said the woman.  ’I shall be ten minutes or a quarter of an hour.  You needn’t feel uneasy; I haven’t the least intention of running away.  Our interests are mutual, and if you do your part you can trust me to do mine.’

She stopped the cab, alighted, told the driver to wait, and walked quickly down the by-road.  Hugh, drawn back into a corner, sat with head drooping; for a quarter of an hour he hardly stirred.  Twenty minutes, thirty minutes, passed, but Mrs. Maskell did not show herself.  At length, finding it impossible to sit still any longer, he sprang out, and paced backwards and forwards.  Vastly to his relief, the woman at length appeared.

‘He is there,’ she said.  ‘I couldn’t get away before.’

‘Is he alone?’

‘Yes.  Don’t do anything foolish.’  Carnaby had looked as if he would move towards the house.  ’The slightest imprudence, and you’ll only harm yourself.’

‘Tell me that date.’

She named it.

’I can’t stay longer, and I advise you to get away.  If you want to write to me, you can do so without fear; my letters are quite safe.  Address to Mrs. Lant.  And remember ——!’

With a last significant look she turned and left him.  Hugh, mentally repeating the date he had learnt, walked back to the cab, and told the man to drive him to the nearest railway station, whichever it was.

When he reached home, some four hours had elapsed since his encounter with Mrs. Maskell (or Mrs. Lant) at Waterloo; it seemed to him a whole day.  He had forgotten all about his purposed journey to Weymouth.  One sole desire had possession of him to stand face to face with Sibyl, and to see her innocence, rather than hear it, as soon as he had brought his tongue to repeat that foul calumny.  He would then know how to deal with the creature who thought to escape him by slandering his wife.

He let himself in with his latchkey, and entered the drawing-room; it was vacant.  He looked into other rooms; no one was there.  He rang, and a servant came.

‘Has Mrs. Carnaby been out long?’

She had left, was the reply, at half-past two.  Whilst she sat at luncheon a telegram arrived for her, and, soon after, she prepared to go out, saying that she would not return tonight.

Not return tonight?  Hugh scarcely restrained an exclamation, and had much ado to utter his next words.

‘Did she mention where she was going?’