“I rather think from the look of that ruffian at the gate that there will be some such price,” said Dudleigh, carelessly. “If I had only brought my pistols, all would be easy. Can it be managed? How shall we do it? Do you think that you have nerve enough, Miss Dalton, to witness a fight?”
“Yes,” said Edith, calmly.
“If I had my pistols,” said Dudleigh, thoughtfully, “I might—But as it is, if they, see you accompanying me, they will assemble in force.”
“Yes,” said Edith, sadly, for she began to see difficulties.
“Now do you think that if you are with me the porter will open the gates?”
“He will not.”
“Well, we must get out in some other way. Can you climb the wall? I might climb and help you over.”
“Yes, but they would follow and prevent us.”
Dudleigh looked at the floor. Then he put his small gloved hand on his forehead, and appeared for a few moments to be lost in thought.
“Miss Dalton,” said he at last, “I am at your service. Can you tell me what I can do?—for to save my life I can think of nothing just now. Give me my orders.”