"Listen!" I said rapidly. "Something awful has happened. Peaches is a prisoner. Your intuition was right. She—we need your help, and need it badly."
"Is she hurt?" he asked. "A prisoner? What in the name——"
"I want you to get a big powerful automobile and have it at the entrance of the park at twelve o'clock to-night. As soon as you arrive, park your car, and come to the foot of that trellis over there. When you get there give the whistle you used to call Peaches with. If you get an answer, wait for us. If after half an hour you don't hear anything, call me on the telephone first thing in the morning. Is that clear?"
"Yes—but Great Scott! What's wrong?"
"Never you mind, except that something is very wrong here. Markheim is an unspeakable beast, and Mr. Pegg is trying to force Peaches into going through with the marriage in spite of what she has found out. He has locked her in her room, which opens into mine."
"Well, why not unlock her, then?" he asked with stupid masculine simplicity. "Haven't you got a key?"
"I have," I said. "But I have given him my word not to unlock it to let her out!"
"But you'll break your word!" he said with a satisfied grin.
"Not at all!" I disclaimed the suggestion. "Not at all. However, I made no promise in regard to the window. And with your assistance——"
"I get you!" cried Dicky, springing to his feet. "Twelve sharp to-night it is. And I'd better be off now before the old boys get back from town and spot me—eh, what?"