We remained in Leeds a week, and although I had given Budd my address at the post-office I received no word from him concerning Eric.
Day by day I watched the columns of the Telegraph until one morning there came an answer to Tibbie’s cipher advertisement, a reply which I read as,—
“To S.—You have been betrayed! Exercise caution, and escape at once, the instant you see this.—Your Friend.”
I lost no time in seeking her, and with affected carelessness handed her the paper, making a casual remark upon the news of the day. I watched her, however, and saw that she at once turned to the column which held the greatest interest for her.
Her eyes fell upon the reply to her secret message. In a few moments she had deciphered it, and sat with the journal still in her hand, staring straight before her.
“Wilfrid!” she exclaimed, in a low, strained voice when she at length found tongue, “I must leave here at once. Every moment’s delay increases my peril. I must escape.”
“Why?”
But again she refused any explanation, merely saying that her departure from Leeds was imperative, and expressing despair that her enemies would never relinquish their hot pursuit. They were hounding her down, she said in despair, and they must sooner or later triumph over her.
“No,” I exclaimed. “Hope on, Tibbie. You must escape—you will escape. They shall never harm you as long as I have strength to be your protector.”
“Ah!” she cried. “How can I thank you, Wilfrid. To you I owe my very life. Without you I should have ended it all long ago.”