Thrusting the paper into my pocket, I climbed up into the trap beside the coachman. A farewell wave, a chorus of good-byes, above which there came some vague words from Aunt Mary about "the sandwiches—under the seat," and I was spinning off down the drive through the long avenue of beech trees.
It was not until we were well out on the high road that I took out Lady Baradell's "commission." It consisted of a few words scribbled hastily on half a sheet of the Ashton notepaper—
"Maurice's message last night concerned you. I think you are in great danger, but I don't know what."
And there are some gentlemen who profess to understand women!
CHAPTER XIX
"A good, heavy spanner," I said, "will be about my mark."
Billy rummaged in the tool-box, selected the article in question, and handed it over to me.
"If you get well home with that," he observed, "we shan't have much need of a gun."
I stored it away in my side pocket. "No guns, Billy," I said, "except as a last resort. This is going to be a case of 'all done by kindness.'"