“I have faith in you, Vic, and I’m very grateful; but this existence maddens me. I want enough to get us across the Channel. I must and will go.”
“Right into the arms of those who are searching for you. What a baby you are, Harry! Do you want to be told again that every boat which starts for the Continent will be watched?”
Harry made a despairing gesture, and his haggard countenance told plainly of the agony he suffered.
“My dear Miss Louy,” continued Pradelle, “do pray help me to bring him to reason. You must see that you are both safe here, and that it is the wisest thing to wait patiently till the worst of the pursuit is over.”
“We do not know that there is any pursuit, Mr Pradelle,” said Louise coldly.
“Come, I like that!” cried Pradelle, in an ill-used tone. “I thought I told you that they were searching for you both. If you like to believe that you can leave your home as you did without your people making any search, why you have a right to.”
Harry began pacing the room, while Pradelle went on in a low, pleading way.
“Ever since Harry came to me, I thought I had done all that a friend could, but if I can do more, Miss Louy, you’ve only got to tell me what, and it shall be done.”
“You’ve done your best, Prad,” said Harry.
“Yes, but you don’t think it. I could go and do all kinds of rash things; but I’ve been working to throw them off the scent, and I don’t think, so far, I’ve done amiss. You’re not taken yet.”