They had been standing together in a little recess of the hall.  Suddenly Lenora, whose face was turned towards the entrance doors, gave a little cry.  She took a quick step forward.

“Laura!” she exclaimed, wonderingly.  “Why, it’s Laura!”

They all turned around.  A young woman had just entered the hotel, followed by a porter carrying some luggage.  Her arm was in a sling and there was a bandage around her forehead.  She walked, too, with the help of a stick.  She recognized them at once and waved it gaily.

“Hullo, you people?” she cried.  “Soon run you to earth, eh?”

They were for a moment dumbfounded; Lenora was the first to find words.  “But when did you start, Laura?” she asked.  “I thought you were too ill to move for weeks.”

The girl smiled contemptuously.

“I left three days after you, on the Kaiser Frederic,” she replied.  “There was some trouble at Plymouth, and we came into Southampton early this morning, and here I am.  But, before we go any farther, tell me about Craig?”

“We’ve had him,” Quest confessed, “and lost him again.  He escaped last night.”

“Where from?” Laura asked.

“Hamblin House.”

“Is that anywhere near the south coast?” the girl demanded excitedly.

“It’s not far away,” Quest replied quickly.  “Why?”

“I’ll tell you why,” Laura explained.  “I was as sure of it as any one could be.  Craig passed me in Southampton Water this morning, being rowed out to a steamer.  Not only that but he recognized me.  I saw him draw back and hide his face, but somehow I couldn’t believe that it was really he.  I was just coming down the gangway and I nearly fell into the sea, I was so surprised.”

Quest was already turning over the pages of a time-table.

“What was the steamer?” he demanded.

“I found out,” Laura told him.  “I tell you, I was so sure of it’s being
Craig that I made no end of enquiries.  It was the Barton, bound for
India, with first stop at Port Said.”

“When does she sail?” Quest asked.

“To-night—­somewhere about seven,” Laura replied.

Quest glanced at the clock and threw down the time-table.  He turned towards the door.  They all followed him.

“I’m for Southampton,” he announced.  “I’m going to try to get on board that steamer before she sails.  Lenora, you’d better go upstairs and lie down.  They’ll give you a room here.  Don’t you stir out till I come back.  Professor, what about you?”

“I shall accompany you,” the Professor declared.  “The discomforts of travelling without luggage are nothing compared with the importance of discovering this human fiend.”

“Luggage—­pshaw!” Laura exclaimed.  “Who cares about that?”

“And nothing,” Lenora declared firmly, as she caught at Quest’s arm, “would keep me away.”

“I’ll telephone to Scotland Yard, in case they care to send a man down,” Quest decided.  “We must remember, though,” he reminded them, “that it will very likely be a wild-goose chase.”