“Promise!” she demanded almost fiercely, “or I will not abide by my promise to you.”
“I promise.”
An expression of relief came into Prudence’s eyes, and she stepped towards him and looked up into his face.
“Good-bye, George, dearest.”
The man suddenly clasped her in a bear-like embrace and rained passionate, burning kisses on her upturned lips. Then quietly she released herself. She stood away from him holding one of his great hands in both of hers.
“Quick! Now my horse.”
Iredale departed, and Prudence was left alone. She stood looking after him thinking, thinking.
“Can I do it?” she asked herself.
Damside City was the nearest telegraph station. It lay nearly thirty-five miles due west of Owl Hoot 304 It was merely a grain station for the district and in no sense a village. She must make that point and so intercept Hervey with a telegraphic message. It was her one chance. In spite of her lover she would buy Hervey’s silence, and trust to the future to set the rest straight. She was strong and her horse was good. She must reach the office before it was closed at six o’clock that evening. She calculated it up; she had just three hours in which to cover the distance. She looked out of the window. The wind was blowing from the east; that was good, it would ease the horse. She looked up at the sky, there were a few clouds scudding westwards.
“Yes, I’ll do it,” she said at last, “if it kills poor Kitty.”