CHAPTER X.

pocket the long Spanish knife which José had given her. "Martha," said she, "I intend to go, and I can't answer for what I might do to any one who tried to hold me. Do you understand?"

"Oh, my dear," whimpered Martha, "don't look at me so! And put away that 'orrid great knife, which it gives me quite a turn on'y to see it. But where would you go, my pore child, all by yourself?"

"Perhaps I had better not tell you," answered Chris. "You will be asked questions, and it would be just as well that you should have no reply to give; though I shall write to Mr. Compton as soon as I reach the place that I am bound for. I shall be with friends, and I shall be well taken care of."

"Well," sighed Martha, "if go you must and will, to be sure there's no sense in your going with nothing but the clothes you stand up in. But why not see your aunt and say the same to her as you've said to me?"

"Because I could not endure to look at her," answered Chris shortly. "Come, Martha, if you are going to help me at all, you must do it at once." And taking the old woman by the arm, she led her back into the house and up stairs.

The reason which Chris assigned for her surreptitious flight was genuine enough, so far as it went; for she had an overpowering repugnance to the idea of facing Peter's murderess; but

Y

Miss

it was not her only reason. Ramsden probably had legal power, and certainly had practical power, to detain her she might even, if the worst came to the worst, call in the police and cause a public scandal. Whereas, if she were separated from her niece by the whole length of France, negotiations would have to be conducted through Mr. James Compton, who would be less difficult to deal with. Chris hastily consulted a continental Bradshaw, while Martha, with many subdued groans, was stuffing her clothes into her trunks, and found that she would have no chance of catching the direct mail to Paris. It would however be quite possible for her to take the Southampton and Havre route, thus leaving London an hour later; only it would be necessary, even so, to use the utmost despatch.

Unfortunately, Martha would not and could not be hurried. Every few minutes she stopped packing, threw herself back, sitting upon her heels, and ejaculated, "Oh, my dear, I durstn't do it!-I reelly durstn't!" and it was only by alternate entreaties and menaces that she could be induced to resume her labours.

What gave Chris even more anxiety than the lukewarmness of her fellowconspirator was that Miss Ramsden's bedroom was next door, and that boxes cannot be moved nor drawers opened and shut without some noise. And, sure enough, when they had nearly completed their preparations, there came three loud thumps upon the partition wall which caused them to start and exchange affrighted glances.

"There!" exclaimed Martha, sinking despairingly into a chair, "that settles it! Go to her I must, and what in this world I'm to say to her

"Listen to me, Martha," interrupted Chris, taking the woman by the shoulders and looking straight into her eyes: "I have heard you tell Aunt Rebecca fibs before now, and I know that you can tell them very well.

66

Well, you will get a reward-of one kind or another. I am only a girl, but I am desperate; and by far the safest thing you can do is to obey me."

Thus cautioned, Martha tottered out of the room, and Chris, having hastily locked her boxes, sat down and waited during the longest five minutes that she had ever spent in her life. Nevertheless, the allotted time had barely expired when her emissary returned, wearing an air of mingled contrition and triumph.

"Well?" asked Chris expectantly. "Well," answered Martha, "she don't suspect nothin'. There! It did go against me to deceive her, and she so porely too. But I kep' sayin' to myself, 'Tis for the sake of others, not for your own, that you're carryin' on in this scanderlous way, and maybe that 'll be took into account.' Mortal bad she says she is ; and to be sure she do look it. 'Bin ringin' that bell for the last 'alf hour,' says she; and then she fancied she 'eard me movin' in the next room, which was why she knock through. So I give her her medicine, and then she seems a bit easier and wants to know whether you was come in yet. Come in?' I says: 'I believe you she 'ave! And in that tearin' and horful passion you wouldn't credit it without you was to see it. And you'd best let me get back to her as soon as I can,' I says, 'and put her safe to bed; for 'tis my belief as she's in no state to be left alone, much less to be allowed within a harm's length of you.' Scared!-well, I don't know as I ever see any one look more scared than pore Miss Rebecca did at that.

Began tremblin' all over, so she shook the bed under her, and, 'Don't let her in 'ere, Martha,' she says, 'don't you let her into this room, whatever you do!' So I puts on a blood-curdlin' sort of a voice, and says I—"

Chris cut this discursive narrative

short without ceremony. "That will do, Martha: I don't want to hear what either of you said, and if I did I shouldn't have time to listen. Now run as fast as you can and call a cab, and tell the man to take off his boots in the hall before he comes up for the boxes, because there is a lady ill in the house. Do you see?"

Off trotted Martha, still much elated by the success of her wily policy; and a few minutes later Chris had the satisfaction of hearing a cab stop at the door. The carrying of the boxes down stairs was anxious work, but no sound proceeded from Miss Ramsden's room; and while the cabman, who took an excruciatingly long time about it, was putting on his boots, Chris could hear Martha rehearsing under her breath the details of an interview which had not yet taken place. "Keb?' says I. What are you athinkin' of? There ain't bin no keb drove away from this 'ouse. You must ha' bin dreamin',' I says

Possibly Martha, who had just succeeded so magnificently in frightening somebody else, did not quite like being reminded of her own timidity. At any rate, she dried her eyes as the cab disappeared, and summoned up a sort of laugh. "Pore dear! she murmured. "She and her knife !-as if I ever believed she'd stab me! Waterloo Station she told the cabman, and she's goin' to friends in furrin parts, as I see by her lookin' at them furrin timetables. They'll ketch her up and bring her back agin in a few days, I s'pose; but 'twas as well to let her 'ave her own way at startin'. Nothin' like 'avin' your own way for coolin' the blood; and as for Miss Rebecca, if this gives her a turn, 'tis no more than she deserves."

Meanwhile Chris was being conducted to her destination at the utmost speed which an old-fashioned fourwheeled cab could accomplish; that is to say, very slowly indeed. She offered the cabman a double fare if he would drive fast, whereupon he lashed his horse into a lumbering canter; but that did not imply any great increase of pace, and it was with only three minutes to spare that the fugitive reached Waterloo.

She took her ticket for Paris, booked her luggage, and was pushed into a carriage just as the train was starting; and then at length she had leisure to reflect upon what she was doing and was about to do. Hitherto there had only been room in her mind for the one idea, that she must at all hazards effect her escape from the wicked and treacherous old woman who had murdered her dog; but now she could not help beginning to wonder whether the Lavergnes, upon whose protection she had resolved to throw herself, would be altogether enchanted when a young woman who had run away from her relations dropped upon them from the clouds. It seemed shabby to doubt it, and yet there was room for just a little bit of doubt. "At any rate," thought Chris, "if they don't want me they need not keep me. I am ready to