“The first thing I shall do, ma’am, is to telegraph to my agent in Edinburgh.  He will arrange for the speediest possible hearing of our case in the Court of Session.  Make your mind easy so far.”

Mrs. Presty’s mind was by this time equally inaccessible to information and advice.  “I want to know what is to be done with those two men who are watching the gate,” was all she said in the way of reply.

Mrs. Linley raised her head in alarm.

“Two!” she exclaimed—­and looked at Mr. Sarrazin.  “You only spoke of one last night.”

“And I add another this morning.  Rest your poor head, Mrs. Linley, I know how it aches; I know how it burns.”  He still persisted in speaking to Mrs. Presty.  “One of those two men will follow me to the station, and see me off on my way to London.  The other will look after you, or your daughter, or the maid, or any other person who may try to get away into hiding with Kitty.  And they are both keeping close to the gate, in the fear of losing sight of us in the fog.”

“I wish we lived in the Middle Ages!” said Mrs. Presty.

“What would be the use of that, ma’am?”

“Good heavens, Mr. Sarrazin, don’t you see?  In those grand old days you would have taken a dagger, and the gardener would have taken a dagger, and you would have stolen out, and stabbed those two villains as a matter of course.  And this is the age of progress!  The vilest rogue in existence is a sacred person whose life we are bound to respect.  Ah, what good that national hero would have done who put his barrels of gunpowder in the right place on the Fifth of November!  I have always said it, and I stick to it, Guy Fawkes was a great statesman.”

In the meanwhile Mrs. Linley was not resting, and not listening to the expression of her mother’s political sentiments.  She was intently watching Mr. Sarrazin’s face.

“There is danger threatening us,” she said.  “Do you see a way out of it?”

To persist in trying to spare her was plainly useless; Mr. Sarrazin answered her directly.

“The danger of legal proceedings to obtain possession of the child,” he said, “is more near and more serious than I thought it right to acknowledge, while you were in doubt which way to decide.  I was careful—­too careful, perhaps—­not to unduly influence you in a matter of the utmost importance to your future life.  But you have made up your mind.  I don’t scruple now to remind you that an interval of time must pass before the decree for your Divorce can be pronounced, and the care of the child be legally secured to the mother.  The only doubt and the only danger are there.  If you are not frightened by the prospect of a desperate venture which some women would shrink from, I believe I see a way of baffling the spies.”

Mrs. Linley started to her feet.  “Say what I am to do,” she cried, “and judge for yourself if I am as easily frightened as some women.”