A CHASE.
Meanwhile, Balmayne had been waiting impatiently for the return of his
companion. Half an hour passed, and there was no sign of her return.
There had been so many accidents and strokes of ill-luck lately that
even Balmayne was nervous. He had half a mind to go and see what was
wrong, but he changed his mind and lighted a cigarette instead.
He was angry and afraid at the same time. Twice already the same
policeman had passed the black motor, and had examined it critically.
The third time he came round he would be pretty sure to want to know
why it was still there. If----
A sudden cry smote the air, a yell of murder followed by the quick
rush of footsteps. A police-whistle screamed hoarsely, there were
answering whistles out of the darkness. The rush of footsteps drew
nearer. The next instant, sobbing breathlessly, Leona Lalage flung
herself headlong into the car.
"What on earth," Balmayne began, "what on earth----"
"Don't stop to ask questions," Leona panted. "Get along quickly. Go
home by as long a route as you can. Ah, they are coming."
A policeman was coming. He hailed the car. He could have no suspicion
of its occupants as yet, he only sought information. Balmayne pulled
the lever and the car started. The officer yelled instructions to
somebody in the darkness; from point to point the message went along.
There was no escape unless good luck stood on their side. And the
motor was terribly swift.
"And now perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me what it's all about,"
Balmayne growled as the motor sped along. "What was the fuss about?"
"I found Charlton there," Leona panted. "Above all persons in the
world, I found Charlton there. He was sitting in the darkness waiting
for Isidore----"
"Then you haven't even got the notes?"
"The notes! I had more important matters to think of. I found matches
and lighted the gas. And there sitting opposite me was Charlton. It
was part of my wretched luck that I should have stumbled on him in
this disguise. Had I been differently dressed he would never have
recognized me. I----. Faster, faster."
A policeman stepped out of the gloom and tried to pull up the car. It
flashed by him at the rate of 70 miles an hour.
"I would have made some excuse and got away," Leona went on. "But he
had me fast. He was going to send me to gaol. That would have been a
pretty thing for Countess Lalage! But he only knew me for what I used
to be. If I could only get away and destroy the disguise he would
never get on my track again. I pretended that I could not fight him
any more; I lulled his suspicions to sleep. I was going to show him how
the forgery was done. He stooped to get me a pen and the knife went
into his shoulder. Had he not moved I should have killed him. He
managed to creep to the window and give the alarm."
Leona stopped for want of breath. Her face was streaming with
moisture. The fierce rush of cold air cooled her heated temples.
"There was nothing else for it," she said. "I wish I had killed him,
then I should have got the notes and returned home comfortably. As it
is half the officers in London are looking for the car at the present
moment. See that!"
She tugged at Balmayne's arm. A cordon of men were drawn up across the
road. With marvellous dexterity Balmayne whipped the car round almost
into a set of men who scattered right and left. One clung to the back
of the car for a moment, but Balmayne beat him off at length.
"Turn down Churton Street," Leona whispered. "There seems to be nobody
at that corner. If we can only get round by way of Hill Crescent we
may manage to escape yet. Once in the square we can baffle them."
It was quiet enough in Churton Street. And again in Collin's Crescent,
which was so near home that the long line of Lytton Avenue could be
seen. But there again standing figures came out of the gloom and the
car sped on.
"So near and yet so far," said Balmayne between his teeth. "The best
thing would be to climb the railings and hide in one of the gardens,
only it would mean abandoning the car. And we might just as well give
ourselves up as that."
Leona nodded, the spirit of adventure was upon her now, it fired her
blood. And there was something intoxicating about that maddening pace.
Still, they could not go on at that speed for ever. Another half an
hour at that speed and the petrol must give out. Balmayne was growing
anxious.
"Another dash round, then I must try the lane at the back of the
house," he said. "The car can't go on like this for ever."
They sped on again, finding the avenues of escape gradually closing
in. Day and night there are always people in the London streets, and
the news was flying far that murder had been committed, and that the
culprits were escaping in a fast motor. By an extra spurt of speed a
rope drawn across the roadway near the avenue was just escaped. A yell
of execration followed from the crowd.
The car flashed round the corner of Lytton Avenue on two wheels. There
was a jolt and a crash as the flying machine went over a balk of wood
laid across the road, and the next instant the occupants were rolling
across the path. Just for the moment there was nobody in sight.
"Quick," cried Balmayne, as he pulled his companion to her feet. "You
don't seem to be hurt, It's a mystery we were not killed. There's a
rail out of the long line of rails in the square yonder, close here.
Ah! Now you squeeze through and I'll follow. We shall save our skins
yet."
They crawled through and hid themselves in the black shrubs. A
policeman came running up and surveyed the wreck thoughtfully. His
lantern played all over it, he stooped down and rubbed at the dull
frame-work vigorously.
"Why, what's this?" he exclaimed. "What does the game mean?"
"Found anything out, mate?" another officer asked.
"Found out a lot," said the first policeman. "This motor's as bright
as your lantern really, It's all covered over with blacklead."