"Jump up, my boy," said Mr. Foster; "we've no time to lose, it's past six now."
"All right," replied Ronald, pulling out his pipe; "wait till I light up." And, having done so, he sprang up to the side of his companion, and they were soon spinning swiftly down the High Street of Marlow.
"I know the way," said Foster; "so I'll drive."
Ronald nodded, by way of response as they went over the bridge, and they saw the river, dim and fantastic-looking below, while the lights were twinkling in the windows of houses, and the air was full of floating shadows. In front arose the great mass of Quarry Woods, with here and there a tall tree, standing out sharply against the clear glow of the sky. An owl hooted in the distance, and then there came the deep sound of a dog's bark, as the two young men drove swiftly along.
"Did you speak to Miss Cotoner to-day?" asked Foster, after a pause.
"I did not--exactly," said Ronald, hesitatingly, taking the cigar out of his mouth; "but she asked me if I knew the reason she was marrying her cousin. I said yes, and asked was it true?"
"And her answer?"
"Was, 'God help me, it is true!'"
"Humph!" said Foster, thoughtfully, "she might not have been referring to your thought that she killed Verschoyle, but to her own, that she marries him to shield her sister."
"Then you think she is innocent?" cried Ronald, eagerly.