“Yes, and I’ll not forget that you have constituted yourself her protector.”
There was a furtive sneer under the pretended humility of the answer, but Beresford did not heed it, he merely said, warningly: “See that you keep your promise,” and turned away, going down the path with Floy at his side and out at the gate with her to the waiting carriage.
The craven wretch they had left behind followed more slowly, for he was indeed sore and bruised from his fall, and his ankle was twisted from his efforts to alight on his feet.
But as he had come afoot on his secret nefarious mission of evil, he was compelled to return the same way, cursing and groaning at every step with blended pain and chagrin, for his heart was filled with rage against Beresford.
“Curse him! He foiled my clever plan entirely!” he raved to himself.
CHAPTER IX.
“OH! THOSE HAPPY MOMENTS SPENT TOGETHER!”
Beresford led his trembling young companion out to the carriage that waited impatiently at the gates, the horses fretting and the driver swearing under his breath.
In fact, the young man had been charged a heavy sum for this service, the driver sharing to the full the common terror of Suicide Place.
So it was with a sigh of relief that he received from Floy the directions where to drive, after which she was handed into the carriage by her escort.