"No; not to Boldini's credit, at all events. Bank have received a reply to their wire, saying that the money was withdrawn a fortnight ago, and the account closed. Not a cent has the beggar got at the Crédit Lyonnais. The cheque is mere waste-paper. They either have the money, with them, or have transferred it to the place they are bound for. What a--what a fool I was! I might have known there was something dicky up the brute's sleeve when he gave in so meekly. They didn't mind dropping Semberry's share, but they were determined to stick to their own. What an ass the devil must have thought me! I fear we shall have a bit of a job to trace them now."
Here the presence of Olive must be held responsible for the string of peculiar sounds proceeding from Aldean. They were comparable to nothing, and cannot be expressed in type.
"Never mind," said Olive, soothingly. "At any rate, we return with twenty thousand and the confessions. Half a loaf is better than none. We have lost much, but, on the other hand, we have gained more than I----"
A knock at the door interrupted her, and a waiter entered with a telegram for Lord Aldean. It proved to be from Tui.
"Come back at once. Mallow in danger," read Aldean, blankly.
Olive turned grey, and literally dropped into her seat. "The Anarchists!" she cried with a gasp. "Oh, Lord Aldean, we must go back at once."
"But the thirty thousand pounds, Miss Bellairs?"
"What do thirty, forty, a hundred thousand pounds matter if Laurence is in danger?" cried Olive, excitedly. "We must not lose an hour. God grant we may not be too late."
"Amen to that," said Aldean, gloomily.
By ten o'clock that night they were on their way to London.