"I suppose Kitty told you?"
"Yes. She told me."
"I think I'm rather glad you know," said Peter simply.
Then, hurrying into their coats, the two men ran out to the car and a moment later they were tearing along the road, their headlights blazing like angry stars beneath the calm, sweet light of the moon overhead.
The old dame who kept the keys of the castle rose from her supper as the honk, honk of a motor-horn broke on her startled ears. People didn't come to visit the castle at this time of night! But the purr of the engine outside her cottage, and the long beams of light flung seawards by the headlights, brought her quickly to the door.
"We want a key—for the castle," shouted Barry, while to expedite matters Peter sprang out of the car and went to the floor of the cottage.
"The key!" he cried out.
She extended her hand, thinking he had brought one back.
"Ah, I knew I'd missed one," she said. She shook a lean forefinger at him reprovingly: "So 'twas you run off with it! I'm obliged to you for bringing it again, sir. I couldn't rightly remember whether 'twas a young lady or gentleman who'd had it. There's so many comes for a key and—"
"It was a lady. She's up there now, we think. And I want another key to get in with. She may have been taken ill."