"Very good, sir. If I may remark, the other's a powerful car."
"I don't think they'll try to overtake us until we're near the station," Foster answered with a laugh. "But we can't allow it then."
"No, sir," said John. "I quite understand."
They ran down the valley at a moderate speed, and Foster, looking around when they came to a straight piece of road, was not surprised to see a gleam of light in the distance. He lost it a few moments afterwards, but it flashed out again every now and then, until they plunged into a thick fir wood. They were about half-way to the station, but the light had not got much nearer. He had, however, not expected it to do so, because he thought Daly would be satisfied if he kept his supposititious victim in sight. The danger would arise when they got near the station, and whether they overcame it or not depended on John's coolness and nerve. Foster thought the man would not fail him.
It was a dark night and a damp haze thickened the gloom. Stone walls and ragged thorn bushes leaped up in the glare of the lamps and faded, but one could see nothing outside the bright beam. This was a disadvantage, because Foster could not tell where he was and much depended on his reaching the station with exactly the right time to spare. He was rather anxious about it, since his plan would be spoiled at the start if the train were late. By striking a match in the shelter of the screen, he could see his watch, but it did not seem prudent to distract John's attention often.
By and by the walls vanished and withered heath, glistening with damp, rolled past the car. They were running through a peat moss, with a deep ditch on one side, and climbing an incline, to judge by the heavy throb of the engine. Shallow ruts, filled with water, ran on in the blaze ahead and showers splashed about the wheels. Outside the bright beam the darkness was impenetrable. Foster, however, was conscious of a pleasant thrill. If one looked at the thing in one way, he was plunging into trouble that might have been avoided; but he had been prudent long enough and found a strange satisfaction in being rash. Besides, no matter what difficulties he got into, he would be repaid by the memory of the look Alice had given him. The way the warm color crept into her face had stirred him as nothing else had done. Anyhow, he had started on the adventure and was going to see it through.
After a time, they sped across a bridge, where a burn splashed noisily down a ravine, and John asked: "How long have we got, sir?"
"Ten minutes, if the train's punctual."
"And where's the other car, sir?"
Foster, whose eyes were dazzled by the match he had struck, looked round and saw a misty flash in the dark.