"They are here?"
"Yes, in my pocket. I have hidden the bag and to-night I mean to burn it."
"Your pocket is not a very safe repository."
"Exactly. That is why I want you to take charge of them," said Cyril.
"Oh, very well," sighed Campbell, with mock resignation. "In for a penny, in for a pound. I shall probably end by being arrested as a receiver of stolen property! But now we must consider what we had better do with Miss Prentice."
"I think I shall hire a cottage in the country for her."
"If you did that, the police would find her immediately. The only safe hiding-place is a crowd."
"You think so?" Cyril looked doubtful.
"I am sure of it. Now let me see: Where is she least likely to attract attention? It must be a place where you could manage to see her without being compromised, and, if possible, without being observed. I have it! A hotel. The Hotel George is the very place. In a huge caravansary like that all sorts and conditions of people jostle each other without exciting comment. Besides, the police are less likely to look among the guests of such an expensive hotel for a poor maid servant or in such a public resort for a fugitive from justice."
"You are right!" cried Cyril enthusiastically.