"Let them. I've got to take her away. She's helpless, Piquette, with him—penniless, if she deserts him."
"Not so 'elpless as you t'ink. But she does not want to see you. Is not dat enough?"
"No," he said, trying to shake loose her clutch on his arm. "I'll find her."
"Jeem," Piquette pleaded desperately. "You will spoil all de good you do. What does it matter if you fin' 'er or not if you lose de paper to Quinlevin again? You mus' go away now before it is too late an' make Quinlevin powerless to 'urt 'er again.. Den, mon Jeem, when 'er future is safe, you s'all fin' 'er. What does it matter now? In time she will come to you. I know. You s'all fin' 'er. An' I, Piquette, will 'elp you."
She felt his arm relax and knew that she had won. He stared for a long moment toward the open door into Nora's room, then turned with a quick gasp of decision.
"You're right, Piquette. We've got to get away—to draw his claws for good."
"Parfaitement! You need not worry. 'E will not 'urt 'er now."
And so they returned to the Irishman's room and looked carefully to the bonds of the prisoners. Nothing was disarranged. They had done their work well, and continued it by methodically making all arrangements for departure; shutting the French window, putting an extra turn on the bindings of the prostrate men, who glared at them sullenly in the obscurity. Then they went out, locking all three rooms from the outside and leaving the keys in the doors. Unobserved, they went up to their rooms—packed their belongings, descended to the office where Jim coolly paid their bills, and went out into the night.
There was a garage nearby, where they hired a car, paying for it in advance, and in less than twenty minutes, Jim Horton driving, were on their way to Vingtimille, on the border line between France and Italy. There they left the machine in the care of a hotel and wrote a postcard to the owner of the garage at Monte Carlo, telling him where he would find his machine. This message they knew would not reach him until some time the next day, by which time they would be lost in Italy.
CHAPTER XX