[CHAPTER XLV.]
A CHASE.
Meanwhile, Balmayne had been waiting impatiently for the return of his companion. Half an hour passed, and there was no sign of her return. There had been so many accidents and strokes of ill-luck lately that even Balmayne was nervous. He had half a mind to go and see what was wrong, but he changed his mind and lighted a cigarette instead.
He was angry and afraid at the same time. Twice already the same policeman had passed the black motor, and had examined it critically. The third time he came round he would be pretty sure to want to know why it was still there. If----
A sudden cry smote the air, a yell of murder followed by the quick rush of footsteps. A police-whistle screamed hoarsely, there were answering whistles out of the darkness. The rush of footsteps drew nearer. The next instant, sobbing breathlessly, Leona Lalage flung herself headlong into the car.
"What on earth," Balmayne began, "what on earth----"
"Don't stop to ask questions," Leona panted. "Get along quickly. Go home by as long a route as you can. Ah, they are coming."
A policeman was coming. He hailed the car. He could have no suspicion of its occupants as yet, he only sought information. Balmayne pulled the lever and the car started. The officer yelled instructions to somebody in the darkness; from point to point the message went along. There was no escape unless good luck stood on their side. And the motor was terribly swift.
"And now perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me what it's all about," Balmayne growled as the motor sped along. "What was the fuss about?"