In the hall Westerham looked rapidly about him. It struck him that the appearance of the Prime Minister being rushed hatless across the pavement to the motor-car might arouse curiosity on the part of the policeman who was slouching up and down along the pavement.
He saw Lord Penshurst's hat, snatched it up, jammed it on the Premier's head, and then, again stifling every protest on the part of the old man by curtly ordering him to be silent, ran him down the steps and across the pavement to the car.
By a miracle the policeman's back was, for the moment, turned to No. 10, so that it was without the slightest let or hindrance that Westerham and Mendip bundled the Premier into the car and that Lowther started the motor on its long journey.
So swift and overwhelming had been Westerham's attack that the aged Premier was still too overcome to demand any explanation or to ask any questions. He leant back against the upholstery, looking crushed and frail, so frail that Westerham's heart smote him for the violence that he had been forced to use. But he nerved himself to carry the thing through, comforting himself with the reflection that what he did must prove the salvation of Kathleen.
The car which Lowther drove was a hired one, but he was an expert driver, and made good speed down Victoria Street to the Buckingham Palace Road and over the Albert Bridge. In less than fifteen minutes he had reached Battersea Park.
Here he pulled up in a quiet spot and Westerham, opening the door of the motor-car, turned to Lord Penshurst.
“I'm sorry,” he said, “that I am obliged to ask you to walk, but you see, although it is no more than a quarter of an hour since we left Downing Street, the whole of London and Scotland Yard will by this time be searching for you in all directions. And if there is to be any hope of my being able to help you out of your difficulties, you must not be recognised.”
The Premier mumbled in his beard, but was still too dazed to make any resistance. He followed Westerham out of the car, and suffered Mendip to take his arm.
A fourth man had been idling by the side of the path when the car was brought to a standstill. This was a friend of Lowther's, who had been pledged to secrecy. He had further promised to take the car back to the garage, and, if necessary, to swear that it had been handed over to him by Lowther on the Barnet Road.
Westerham's subtle mind indeed had thought out arrangements which practically precluded the possibility of their track being picked up and followed with success; though naturally the chances of escape were very strong against him, for, if ever the police had worked, they would of a surety work now.