"So near and yet so far," said Balmayne between his teeth. "The best thing would be to climb the railings and hide in one of the gardens, only it would mean abandoning the car. And we might just as well give ourselves up as that."
Leona nodded, the spirit of adventure was upon her now, it fired her blood. And there was something intoxicating about that maddening pace. Still, they could not go on at that speed for ever. Another half an hour at that speed and the petrol must give out. Balmayne was growing anxious.
"Another dash round, then I must try the lane at the back of the house," he said. "The car can't go on like this for ever."
They sped on again, finding the avenues of escape gradually closing in. Day and night there are always people in the London streets, and the news was flying far that murder had been committed, and that the culprits were escaping in a fast motor. By an extra spurt of speed a rope drawn across the roadway near the avenue was just escaped. A yell of execration followed from the crowd.
The car flashed round the corner of Lytton Avenue on two wheels. There was a jolt and a crash as the flying machine went over a balk of wood laid across the road, and the next instant the occupants were rolling across the path. Just for the moment there was nobody in sight.
"Quick," cried Balmayne, as he pulled his companion to her feet. "You don't seem to be hurt, It's a mystery we were not killed. There's a rail out of the long line of rails in the square yonder, close here. Ah! Now you squeeze through and I'll follow. We shall save our skins yet."
They crawled through and hid themselves in the black shrubs. A policeman came running up and surveyed the wreck thoughtfully. His lantern played all over it, he stooped down and rubbed at the dull frame-work vigorously.
"Why, what's this?" he exclaimed. "What does the game mean?"
"Found anything out, mate?" another officer asked.
"Found out a lot," said the first policeman. "This motor's as bright as your lantern really, It's all covered over with blacklead."