With the speed of a hunted animal, the priest leaped to his feet, dragging the girl after him, and a harsh laugh came from his throat as they dashed onward. A quick glance behind showed there had been but one pursuer, and the man in the robes of holiness chuckled exultantly. But, if Dorothy Garrison believed him to be the priest his robes declared, the moonlight told the fallen Turk the truth. Indeed, it was the intentness with which the little ex-burglar gazed upon the white face of Courant that prevented him from seeing the ledge as he dashed up to the couple.
How long it was afterward that Turk came to his senses and crawled back to the roadway, dizzy, weak and defeated, he knew not. He could only groan and gnash his teeth when he stood erect again and saw that he was utterly alone. Courant and the girl were gone. In shame and humiliation he climbed the hill to call for help.
Just as the searching party was about to rush recklessly from the courtyard, servants having been instructed to bring out the horses, Lady Jane espied a white piece of paper on the ground near the gate. And then it was that they read the parting message from the girl who was gone. With a trembling voice Lady Saxondale read:
“I have found a way, and I am going, if nothing prevents. With the help of my good angel I shall soon be far from this place. A holy man in passing saw my signal of distress and promised rescue. You have been good to me, and I can only repay you by refusing to expose you. This priest does not know who you are. I shall not tell him or any who may be with him. No one shall ever know from me that you were my abductors. God grant that you may never have to pay the penalty. Go, while you may, for the truth may become known without my help, and I may not be able to save you. Save yourselves, all of you. I mean Philip Quentin, too, because I know he loves me.
“Dorothy.”
Philip Quentin took the forlorn, even distressed, message from the hands of Lady Saxondale, kissed it devoutly, and placed it in his pocket.
“Philip is too ill to go out on this desperate chase,” cried Lady Saxondale.
“Ill! I'll die if I am not gone from here in five minutes! Great Lord, Bob, those fools have been an hour getting the horses!” groaned Quentin, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
“Don't get excited, Phil; keep your head. You're not fit to be running about in a business like this, but all Christendom couldn't stop you. It may be a wild goose chase, after all,” said Lord Bob.
“She's been carried back to the accursed villain who employs Courant, and I'll die before I'll let him have her. Oh, what fools we've been!”