“No,” she replied. “You would not try to kill him unless you-found them together, and I am confident that they are not together.”
“You need not be afraid for him—it is not him that I mean to kill.”
“I am afraid neither for him nor for her, Mr. Wadhurst.”
“Come, then, if you’re not afraid. It’s only a two-hour journey to the coast. There’s a train in forty minutes from now—no, half an hour from now. I’ve been here ten minutes. I looked it up. You will catch that train if you mean to come. I’ll make sure of it myself.”
He spoke almost roughly, and when he had spoken he turned round and strode away. She called to him, begging him to come back, but he paid no attention to her. He seemed anxious to make it plain to her that he refused to recognize the fact that they were acting in concert in this business—to make it plain that he was going for one purpose, and she for quite another. She felt that he was a nasty man—a detestable man. She liked Priscilla not merely because Jack loved her, but also because Priscilla embodied all that she considered admirable in a girl; but now she wished with all her heart that she had never come across her son’s track.
She perceived that there was no time to lose if she meant to catch the 10.47 train from Framsby to Gallington Junction, where one changed for Sandycliffe.
She also perceived that it would never do to allow that man to go alone to the place. She was positive that Jack and Priscilla were not together, but she distrusted Mr. Wadhurst. She had no confidence in his powers of deduction or in his self-restraint. She saw as in a picture the meeting between that man and her son—she could hear the irritating words that the former would speak—-the sharp and contemptuous replies of the other—exasperation on both sides, and then perhaps blows—blows or worse.
It would not do to miss that train.
She had set the household moving within a minute or two, and the motor was ordered to be at the door in ten minutes. Her maid was overwhelmed at the very idea of a start like this at a moment’s notice. She began to remonstrate, but her mistress was peremptory; and amazed her by the vehemence with which she commanded her to hold her tongue and get out a travelling dress. It was only by much straightforward speaking that the flight was accomplished in good time, and the railway station reached with four minutes to spare. The maid found such a period all too short for the full expression of her grievances in being compelled to start on a journey in her house-dress with a most inappropriate wrap to conceal its true character as far as possible—it was too short a space of time for her purpose, but she certainly did her best.
At first Mrs. Wingfield thought that Mr. Wadhurst had not arrived at the station. He was nowhere to be seen. It was not until the train had come in, and Mrs. Wingfield and her maid had taken their seats, that the man appeared—he had hidden himself in the goods office, utilizing his time by an enquiry regarding some crates of machinery which he expected. He went past the first-class carriages without looking into any compartment. When the change was being made at the junction she failed to see him. But when Sandyclifle was reached she found that he had travelled in a second-class compartment, that was next to her first-class carriage. He took no notice of her, but walked with those long strides of his out of the station in front of her.