Only an instant his eyes swept her, observing the flushed cheeks and disordered attire, leading her wonder at his unexpected appearance, and––to his satisfaction!––her relief as well; only an instant, during which the warder stared at him open-mouthed––and then his glance rested on the now thoroughly sober limb of the law.
“Get out!” he said, briefly and harshly.
“But,” began the other with a sickly grin, intended to be ingratiating, “I don’t understand––this unexpected manner––this forcible departure from––”
Coolly raising his weapon, the patroon deliberately covered the hapless jailer, who unceremoniously scrambled out of the door. The land baron laughed, replaced his revolver and, turning to the young girl, removed his hat.
“It was fortunate, Miss Carew, I happened along,” he said gravely. “With your permission, I will get in. You can tell me what has happened as we drive along. The manor house, my temporary home, is not far from here. If I can be of any service, command me!”
The jackal saw the patroon spring into the carriage, having fastened his horse behind, and drive off. Until the vehicle had disappeared, he stood motionless in the road, but when it had passed from sight, he seated himself on a stone.
“That comes from mixing the breed!” he muttered. “Dramatic effect, à la France!” He wiped the perspiration from his brow. “Well, I’m three miles from my humble habitation, but I’d rather walk than ride––under some circumstances!”