They were off again in a few minutes, Mendip riding beside Lowther, and the Premier beside Westerham in the body of the car.
He inquired eagerly as to the man whom Westerham still held between his knees, and Westerham, to Patmore's shame, briefly outlined what had passed since he had kept the appointment at St. Paul's.
There were some things which he did not tell the Premier, and Patmore, wincing under yet another squeeze from Westerham's ruthless fingers, held his peace.
The man had given them fairly accurate directions as to the road which they must take, and Lowther made good speed through New Cross and so to Bromley. They kept on down the main road till they passed Farnborough, where, in accordance with Patmore's instructions, he branched off to the left, and leaving Cudham behind them, he swept down the hill to Westerham, the place from which Sir Paul took his name.
They were now, indeed, travelling along the same route which Melun had taken when he had kidnapped Lady Kathleen in Richmond Park.
As they ran through Sevenoaks Westerham lowered the windows and made Patmore kneel on the front of the seat, so that he could the better point out the way to Lowther.
Lowther knew the district fairly well, and whistled to himself as Patmore directed him to turn up to the right before they reached Hildenborough.
The car was now heading for Edenbridge, and he knew they were racing along the foot of that great range of hills, the southern slopes of which are almost as precipitous and desolate as the moors of Devon.
Before long Patmore directed Lowther to turn to the right again, and he had to put the car on to her second and then on to her third speed as the hill rose up almost sheer before them.
“How much further is it?” he asked over his shoulder as the engines of the motor complained bitterly at the ascent.