But they were not to be put to so much trouble. Suddenly a door opposite opened, and the man who had been guarding Phyllis Benton peered out suspiciously. His jaw fell, and a look of aghast surprise spread over his face as he saw the four men in front of him. Then he made a quick movement as if to shut the door, but before he realised what had happened the American’s foot was against it, and the American’s revolver was within an inch of his head.
“Keep quite still, son,” he drawled, “or I guess it might sort of go off.”
But Hugh had stepped past him, and was smiling at the girl who, with a little cry of joyful wonder, had risen from her chair.
“Your face, boy,” she whispered, as he took her in his arms, regardless of the other, “your poor old face! Oh! that brute, Lakington!”
Hugh grinned.
“It’s something to know, old thing,” he remarked cheerily, “that anything could damage it. Personally I have always thought that any change in it must be for the better.”
He laughed gently, and for a moment she clung to him, unmindful of how he had got to her, glorying only in the fact that he had. It seemed to her that there was nothing which this wonderful man of hers couldn’t manage; and now, blindly trusting, she waited to be told what to do. The nightmare was over; Hugh was with her....
“Where’s your father, dear?” he asked her after a little pause.
“In the dining-room, I think,” she answered with a shiver, and Hugh nodded gravely.
“Are there any cars outside?” He turned to the American.