"Ah, Wilfrid! It is cruel--cruel of them to hunt me down as they are
now doing. Where shall I go? Where do you intend going?"
"Anywhere--out of London. What about Leeds? Neither of us know anyone
there."
She was silent a moment. Then said, "I am in your hands entirely,
Wilfrid, and will go to Leeds if you think I can travel without being
recognised."
"If I anticipated any risk I would not allow you to undertake it," I
said. "We will go this evening by the 5:45 from King's Cross--`Oswin's
train,' as they call it, because he is the caterer for the dining-car."
"Very well," she answered. "As you wish. But before we go will you do
me a favour? Go to the _Daily Telegraph_ office and put in an
advertisement for me."
"An advertisement!" I exclaimed, in surprise.
"Yes," she laughed, rather nervously. "I want to--I mean it is
necessary that I should communicate with a friend."
I said nothing, but stood watching her as she took out half a sheet of
notepaper and commenced to print three lines of jumbled capitals and
numerals--an advertisement apparently in the cipher which I had taken
from the dead unknown.
Her action astounded me, but I managed to remain as though interested
but ignorant.
"Why in this cipher?" I asked, when she handed it to me, requesting me
to go to Fleet Street after our midday dinner.
"Because--well, because I don't wish it to be read by other people. It
is for the eye of one person only."
I placed it in my pocket without further comment, and after we had eaten
together I went out to do her bidding.
While seated in the tram-car in the Old Kent Road I took out the mystic
message she had written, and with the key which I had fortunately
carried away with me from Bolton Street I deciphered the words she had
penned.