"No, thank you. I'll go now if you don't mind."
He left the room as he spoke, and a few minutes later he had packed a small suit-case. He returned to the room where Tony still remained.
"Good-bye, Riggleton; I'm off."
"But you—you're mad."
"I think I am. Good-bye."
"But where are you going?"
"To the station. If I make haste I shall catch the next train to London."
Riggleton looked at him in open-mouthed wonder. "Well, you are a fool!" he gasped.
Dick rushed out of the house without a word to the servants. He felt as though he dared not speak to them. Something in his heart—something which he could not explain—was telling him to fly, and to fly quickly.
When he reached the doorway he turned and looked. He wanted to see if—if——But there was nothing. The westering sun shed its bright rays not only on the house, but on the flowers which bloomed in glorious profusion; but there was no suggestion of anything beyond the ordinary to be seen.