"The Saint is out to get the Z-Man, and before he could let himself go he had to be sure that he wouldn't be placing any of you in danger," Patricia went on. "I took the risk of lying to you in London because it was too urgent to go into explanations. But before we go any farther I want to tell you that you're free to go whenever you please. This very minute if you like. Any one of you or all three of you can go if you want to. You haven't been kidnapped. The car is ready to take you back to London. But if you're wise you'll stay here. I'll tell you why."
Irene and Sheila, bewildered at first, began to understand as she went on; and Beatrice Avery contributed some heartfelt persuasions of her own. And while they talked the subtle atmosphere of peace and security with which the Saint had invested the house began to add its charm to the. other arguments. The girls looked at each other and then at the less comforting dark outside…
"Well, you've been very frank about it, Miss Holm," said Irene Cromwell at length. "I'm willing to stay if you think it would help. But the studio—"
"You can phone them in the morning and say you've been taken ill."
"But why are we safer here than in London?" asked Sheila.
Patricia smiled.
"With Orace and Hoppy Uniatz to look after us we can make faces at a dozen Z-Men," she replied confidently. "Also nobody except yourselves knows where you are. And this house isn't quite as innocent as it looks. It has all sorts of surprises for people who try to crash the gate. Now suppose we have a cocktail."
Mr Uniatz drew a deep breath.
"Say, ain't dat an idea?" he asked of the assembled company with the enthusiasm of an alchemist who has just heard of the elixir of life. "Dat'll make everyt'ing okay."
Orace was serving the second course of dinner when he cocked his head on one side and listened. Patricia, too, had heard the familiar drone of the Hirondel.