"All right, all right," cried Lord Prelice irritably; "don't worry your head, Rover. I'll see to this. And you had better clear off, back to London. Jadby is a rough customer, and if we get involved in a row it will be bad for your heart."
"My dear Lord Prelice!"
"Yes. Anyone can see—oh, pooh! don't worry me."
"My heart is weak," said Rover with dignity, "and my wife's behaviour is not likely to make it strong. Nevertheless, I shall wait and help in the search for Miss Chent, and bribe Jadby as I said. He must not marry this young lady."
"He won't," Madame assured him coolly; "he shall marry me."
Prelice turned to the fortune-teller. "Will you go into a trance and see where Mona is?"
"I have already been in a trance before leaving Bond Street."
"Then you know——"
Madame looked at him unflinchingly. "I could see nothing but clouds, and clouds, and clouds," she responded. "Only one thing I am certain of, and that is that Miss Chent is hidden somewhere amongst these Downs."
Prelice shrugged his shoulders. "Much good that information does. I quite believe it; but where?"