Half an hour later, they were steaming toward the city as fast as steam could carry them. The dark curly head nestled against his shoulder, while Royal looked out of the window, out into the blackness of the night, little dreaming that he was on the eve of a terrible tragedy.
He had been lucky enough to secure the little compartment at the rear of the drawing-room car, which those who have money enough to pay for can secure exclusively for themselves.
"I ought to tell you something that is weighing very heavily upon my mind, Royal," she said, nestling closer to her fair, handsome, boyish husband.
"Not until to-morrow, love," he declared, drawing her toward him, and kissing her fondly.
[CHAPTER VI.]
It was early the next morning when the Newport express steamed into the Grand Central Depot.
Royal Ainsley cast a furtive glance around him as he stepped upon the platform. He had quite expected a dozen or more detectives to spring forward, for, of course, the telegraph wires had been busy during the night.
They would no doubt be waiting to arrest him for abducting the heiress. But when he had blandly informed them that lovely Ida May was his wife, what could they do but fall back abashed and disconcerted.