"Oh, there is no time for that!" she cried. "It can matter little or nothing who I am, at any rate for the present. Did you follow me just now? I hope you understood that I was speaking to you?"
"We gathered that, madam," Rigby said politely; "but really we are wasting time in idle compliments."
The stranger's face fairly beamed with gratitude. She turned and pointed in the direction of the door. There was no need whatever for further words; the friends knew exactly what she wanted.
The gesture was eloquent enough. The lady who had so strangely and unexpectedly come to the assistance of the friends intimated to them as plainly as words could speak that there was no time to be lost, and that the sooner they were off the premises the better. Jack did not wish to delay; he had no desire to be caught like a rat in a trap, nor for a moment did he forget the fact that this woman who spoke in parables had risked much to come to their assistance. On the other hand, Rigby, being cooler and more collected than his friend, and, like a journalist, more prone to go into details, was disposed to linger for explanations. His hesitation was by no means lost on the fair stranger. Once more she pointed to the door, this time with an imperious gesture.
"Oh! why do you hesitate?" she murmured. "Why do you stand like a schoolboy staring into a shop window? I know you are here for some desperate purpose; I can more than guess the reason for your visit. You are men of intellect and understanding, therefore you must clearly see the danger of even an instant's delay."
The lady turned away as if she had finished. Jack might have found it in his heart to be a little ashamed of Rigby, but, after all, the temptation to give way to curiosity was absolutely overwhelming. Jack pulled himself together at length, and dragged angrily at Rigby's arm. He felt just a little inclined to flush under the contemptuous gaze of their beautiful rescuer.
"Oh, do come along," he said. "My dear Dick, you are positively guilty of bad taste in this matter."
"Really, I beg your pardon," Rigby said humbly. "But you can quite understand my feelings. Good-night, madam."
Despite the wild hurry-scurry and the excitement of the moment, Jack had not failed to notice the exquisite beauty of the strange woman's face. She was quite young, about twenty-five or thereabouts, and yet her fair face, without a line or wrinkle in it had a suggestion of the Madonna, as of one who had suffered much. She flew down the stairs, heedless of the darkness, and into the forecourt beyond.
"Pray to heaven we are not too late," she said . "It seemed to me just now that I was barely in time, but surely----"