Almost before Theydon had quitted the room Winter snapped—­ there is no other word for it—­ literally snapped a question at Evelyn.

“What’s your telephone number?”

She told him, and again the Eastbourne exchange was bidden exert itself.

“That you, Mr. Forbes?” said the chief inspector, after a short wait.

“Yes.”

“I am Winter, of Scotland Yard.  I want to assure you that your wife and daughter will be under your roof within the next three hours.  Mrs. Forbes will probably be escorted by a gentleman named Handyside, an American.  You owe him all possible thanks, because it is due to his action alone that Mrs. Forbes will soon be rescued from captivity.  Yes, she was carried off from Beachy Head this afternoon by Wong Li Fu, but, by the rarest good fortune, this Mr. Handyside, a friend of Mr. Theydon’s, was able to follow on the trail, and steps are now being taken to free her.  Your daughter will speak to you.  I intervened merely to vouch for it that an almost incredible story is true.  By the way, let no one know that Mrs. Forbes is in London.  Warn your servants not to speak of her return.  One more word—­ have you heard anything of Furneaux?”

“I have not heard from or seen him since we parted outside Bow Street police station.  But, for Heaven’s sake, what is this you tell me about my wife?”

“Miss Forbes will give you all the particulars we possess.  Be calm and remain at home.  You can best assist us by stopping within call.  Mrs. Forbes and the American should arrive first, possibly before 7:30.  If there is any hitch, which is unlikely, Mr. Handyside will telephone you.  Your daughter will tell you the hour she and Mr. Theydon should reach Victoria.  She will speak to you now.  Excuse my abruptness.  A lot of things may happen before I retire for the night, and I have no time to pick and choose my words.”

Evelyn, able at last to pour out her soul in thanksgiving, nearly broke down when she heard her father’s voice.

“Oh, Dad,” she wailed, “I’ve passed through a dreadful time since I spoke to you shortly after five o’clock.  I dropped as if I had been shot when Mrs. Montagu, who was one of the picnic party, told me that a man of foreign appearance, with a scar on the left side of his face, and who said he was a doctor, came to Beachy Head and told poor mother that I had sent for her.”

She went on to relate such facts as were known to her, and was in the midst of a sensational narrative when Theydon announced that a high-powered touring car was in readiness.

“Won’t you take us with you?” he said to Winter.  “There is no train from here till 7:30, and in a motor we should be well on the way to London by that time.”

Winter had anticipated some such request, and a prompt refusal was on the tip of his tongue, when he recalled that he would pass through Tunbridge Wells, whence an earlier train might be available.  A glance at the time table showed that a train left Tunbridge Wells at 7:15.