They had got on to the road, and the hollow was already left some little distance behind, when the window over the driver's seat was opened, and Dorothy asked a question.

"Which way did he really go--that young man in the red shirt?"

"Frankly, between ourselves, I don't believe he went very far from the spot at which he introduced himself to us--the young scamp!"

"He can't be so very young if he has a wife."

"Gentlemen in his class of life marry while they're in their teens; and the ladies, some of them, apparently as soon as they're out of their cradles. How's that hat?"

"Thank you, it's--it's very nice. It's odd, if he didn't go far from where we were, that she shouldn't have seen him."

"Perhaps the young gentleman is lying low. I say. This establishment of mine doesn't need much driving. I can do all the driving that's required standing up; and if I were to stand up I could see inside that window, and be able to judge for myself what that hat really does look like. Do you think I might?"

"You--you can stand up if you like; only--take care of the horse.

"The horse will take care of us--never fear; she's a remarkable animal, this mare of mine." His face appeared on one side of the window, and the girl's on the other. "I say. I had a sort of feeling that that hat would suit you, but I never guessed it would suit you quite so well as that."

"Do you--do you think it does suit me--really?"

"If you were to ransack all Newcaster I doubt if you'd find another which, artistically, would be such a success."

"I am glad you like it; it was very good of you to buy it." There was a pause; then she added: "Would you mind sitting down again, so that I might see the country--it seems to be rather pretty."

He glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes, whimsically.

"It is rather pleasant hereabouts--am I so much in your way? Can't you see the country with me here?"

Her answer was decisive:

"Not so well as I should if you were sitting down."

So he sat down, where he could not see her: and the caravan went on.

Although for a vehicle of its sort it was of light construction, it still was cumbrous. The rate of progression was not fast; evidently the mare had her own idea of how fast it ought to be. Perhaps it was because she was such a sleek and well-fed animal that she objected to being pressed. One could not but feel that, when she hauled that house on wheels, with Mr Frazer at the reins, she was used to going as she pleased; that it was she who set the pace, not the driver and that the pace she preferred was a walking pace, of about five miles an hour. When she discovered, as she presently did, that, on that occasion, she was desired to go a little faster, she evinced her resentment in a fashion which was unmistakable. Occasionally Mr Frazer induced her to break into what was really a bad imitation of a trot; at the end of perhaps a hundred yards she would relapse into a walk, with an air which suggested that she had been forced to gallop a mile; and as it was plain that, where she was concerned, her driver could not bring himself to use strong measures and equally plain that the creature knew it, before they had gone very far the vehicle was being drawn along the highroad at a rate which suited the mare, if it suited no one else.

They had been moving a good hour, and had covered perhaps six or seven miles, when a man, who was again of the gipsy class, came trotting towards them, sitting on a bare-backed beast, which, although it might have been exhibited as a living skeleton, could have given the well-fed mare many points in the matter of speed. He glanced keenly at the caravan; as soon as he had passed on one side he stopped, turned his horse, and came back on the other, until he found himself abreast with Mr Frazer. Stooping over he addressed him in a husky undertone.

"I say, governor, are you going to Timberham?"

"It is possible that I may get there, in time."

"Is your name Frazer?"

"Right; what's yours?"

"Never mind what mine is. If you take my advice you'll give Timberham as wide a berth as ever you can."

"Why?"

The husky undertone became still huskier:

"The cops are looking out for you. Don't ask me how I know--ask no questions and you'll hear no lies--but I do know. I don't know what they want you for--I don't want to know--but they've got the office to look out for a yellow van, with black stripes and red wheels, driven by a party named Frazer, who's got a girl with him; I expect that's her looking out of the window."

Mr Frazer glanced over his shoulder. For some time conversation with his passenger had languished. He had told her where he kept his little store of books, and she had withdrawn into the van, nominally to read one; but that she was doing more thinking than reading was a fact which she would not have cared to deny. Now, attracted by the appearance of the stranger, she had drawn close to the open casement. Stopping the van, Mr Frazer descended to the ground. He spoke to the man on the bareribbed horse.

"Would you mind coming on one side for a moment?" They moved to where the grass fringed the road, and where, if they spoke in lowered tones, they were out of earshot of the girl at the window. "Are you sure of what you say?"

The two men looked each other in the face. Frazer saw that this man was a wild-looking fellow, whose experience of the police and their methods was probably of a practical kind. So far as he could judge he seemed to be sufficiently in earnest.

"Dead sure. I tell you they're looking out for you for all they're worth. I shouldn't be surprised but what they're looking out for you over the whole countryside. I know 'em?" He both sounded and looked as if he did. "Just this side the town, about a couple of miles from where we are, there's one of 'em coming along the road; I dare lay he's coming to meet you."

"That's kind of him."

"I don't say he is, mind; I'm only telling you to look out."

"Thank you; I'm obliged by your doing so."

He slipped a coin into the other's long, thin, brown hand. The man looked at it.

"Here, what's this? It ain't this I'm after; I told you the cops was on the watch same as I'd tell anyone, no matter what they'd done. However, if you have got this half-sovereign to give away, I don't mind taking it; and I thank you. It may make all the difference to me. Sorry I can't stop to lend you a hand, in case one's wanted; but, the fact is, some of them wouldn't mind seeing me as well as you, and, as I'm not the only one that's in it, time's precious."

What might have been meant for a smile passed over the man's saturnine visage. Mr Frazer stood watching him, as he urged his bony steed along the road. It seemed as if Ben Hitchings, having come back to sense, had found a friend sooner than was quite desirable; or perhaps his wife had found him, and this was his revenge. He wondered how the lad had managed to set the machinery of the law in action so quickly. Moving towards the van he was met with the question he had expected.

"What did that man want?" asked Dorothy.

She had her head half out of the window. Stooping, he passed his hand up and down the mare's leg. Then, lifting her foot, he asked a question of his own:

"Would you mind getting out and walking a little?"

"Why don't you tell me what that man wanted?"

"What! that fellow who's gone down the road? He brought me a message."

"What message? From whom? I heard what he said."

"Then, if you heard, you won't need me to tell you."

"I only heard part--you know I only heard part. Tell me what he said! Tell me at once!"

Mr Frazer was passing the fingers of his left hand through his hair. He seemed to be in a quandary, which caused him to be oblivious of the young lady's peremptory tone.

"I don't fancy it's anything serious; but--I don't think I ought to make her go much farther, with that great thing at her back. Poor old girl!"

He patted the mare on the shoulder, as if in sympathy. She looked round at him, as if she wondered what he meant. An inquiry came from the window:

"Is there anything the matter with the horse?"

"I'm not sure that there is--I'm not sure, that's the point. I don't take any risks, with an old friend.--she and I have been friends too long. That's why I asked you if you'd mind walking a little way."

"Of course I wouldn't--you know I wouldn't."

"Then in that case I think I'll take her into the field, and leave her there."

He was leading the mare through a gate in a hedge, which opened into a field on the right.

"Whose field is it?" asked the face at the window.

"No doubt it belongs to someone who wouldn't wish to cause a horse needless suffering."

"But is it suffering? It seems to me to walk all right, and to be all right."

"Now it does--now! She's not one to make a fuss about a trifle. Besides, it may be spasmodic."

"What may be spasmodic?"

"I am not a veterinary surgeon, so I can hardly pose as an authority on the ailments of horses; I can only hope for the best." He was fastening a nosebag round the creature's neck. "I don't want her to eat a stranger's grass, however soft a heart he may have for a suffering beast. If that door's still bolted, would you mind unbolting it? I'm coming round to the back." When he did get round the door was open, and the girl was standing on the ledge, in her new attire. He exclaimed at sight of her: "Why, that frock might have been built for you; you look as if you had been melted into it."

Her pallor had gone; she was rosy red.

"It does fit rather well."

"And that hat's a stunner; no one who saw you last night would know you now. If you wouldn't mind coming down, I'll come up; I want to do a little changing."

When she had descended he climbed into the van; he drew the door to in his turn; she heard him bolt it. She moved to the horse at the other end. The sagacious quadruped seemed as if she did not quite know what to make of the situation. The presence of the nosebag seemed to puzzle her. She had recently eaten her fill of grass; there was grass again all round her; nice, luscious grass--then why the nosebag? She really did not seem to feel as if she needed it, amid all that grass. She regarded the girl as if, while wondering who she was, she desired to convey to her her feelings on the subject.

When Mr Frazer reappeared, for a second Dorothy scarcely knew him--the metamorphosis he had wrought in his appearance in such a short space of time was so complete. He had on a pair of buttoned boots; coat and trousers of dark blue serge; a white waistcoat; a stiff white collar; a neat green necktie; a dark green soft felt hat; and, to crown all, he had shaved off his beard. His chin was as innocent of hair as a baby's; his moustache was his only hirsute adornment. She stared at him in amazement.

"Why, whatever have you been doing?"

He smiled.

"I've only been cleaning up. Please don't glare at me like that. Am I such an ogre?"

"No, you're not an ogre; at least, you don't look as if you were; only--it's difficult to believe that the person who went in is the one who's come out."

"That's the idea. Now, if you're ready, hadn't we better start?"

"Are you really going to leave the horse and van in here?"

He was locking the door of the van; the windows were already shut.

"Why not? They'll be all right; trust me to take care of that."

"I don't believe there's anything the matter with the horse; it seems perfectly all right, and I believe you know it. You're doing this because of what that man said--that man on the horse. What did he say? I insist on your telling me! I--I wish you wouldn't be so mysterious! What became of that young man in the red shirt? I believe you knew where he was all the while, though you pretended to his wife that you didn't. You may mean to be kind, but it isn't kind to treat me as if I were a doll, and tell me nothing. It is I who am chiefly concerned, not you."

The girl spoke warmly, but the man seemed to be unaware of the fact. Having finished locking the door, he was contemplating the vehicle with an air of careful consideration.

"I think that everything's shipshape--it's hardly likely that thieves will break in and steal; especially as I've left nothing worth stealing; if the owner of the field turns up all he can do is to run the whole thing into what serves as the local pound, and that'll do no harm to anyone." He turned to Dorothy. "Now, if you are ready, I'll answer all your questions as we go along. Hollo! what's that?" He listened. "Sounds as if it were a car." He went hurrying to the gate. "It is--with only the chauffeur on board--I wonder----" He did not finish his sentence out loud, but he moved into the middle of the road. As the car came closer he held up his hand; it stopped. He said to the driver, who was obviously the mechanic: "Would you like to earn a couple of five-pound notes?"

The man grinned.

"I shouldn't have any particular objection."

"Drive me and this young lady over to Ashington, and you shall have a couple."

"Ashington's fifteen miles from here--I've just set my governor down at the races--I have to fetch him again in a couple of hours."

"What's fifteen miles to a good car?--or thirty? Without pressing you ought to be there and back with nearly an hour to spare. Here are the fivers; you might as well earn them as do nothing."

The man, who had pushed his goggles up on to his forehead, was regarding the pieces of paper with greedy eyes.

"That's true--and there's nothing special I've got to do."

Mr Frazer advanced the notes closer to the man.

"Is it a deal? It won't hurt the car."

"No; it won't hurt the car."

"Then put the pair into your pocket; why not?"

"All right; I'm on."

The man subjected the notes to an attentive scrutiny. Apparently he knew a good note when he saw one, because, lifting up his poncho, he put them into his jacket pocket with an air of satisfaction.

"There's a good deal of dust about," observed Mr Frazer, in that casual way of his. "Have you anything in the way of a cloak which the lady might slip on while you're pushing through it?--and a pair of goggles, which will keep it out of her eyes?"

"There's the missus' dust cloak in the back there--she might put that on, and there are some goggles in here."

He unbuttoned a leather flap.

"Make it two pairs, if it runs to it--I could do with some as well." He was shrouding the girl in a long, tan-coloured garment, with a hood to it. She drew the hood well over her hat, and, under his directions, buttoned it under her chin. There was a mutinous glint in her eyes; one felt that she would have dearly liked to express strong disapproval of the whole proceeding; but, somehow, the matter-of-fact, take-it-for-granted air with which he bore himself, seemed to have on her a mesmeric influence which kept her dumb. Having inducted her into the back seat of the car, and arranged a rug about her knees, he handed her some goggles. When they were in their place her identity was concealed beyond all likelihood of recognition. He used a second pair, which the driver produced from the leather flap, for himself, slipped on a sort of oilskin coat, and a cloth cap--both of which articles, it seemed, belonged to the "governor"--and, seating himself beside the chauffeur, said: "Now, let her whiz!"

And they were off, at a pace which was in striking contrast to that at which they had so recently been moving; that they were not, however, going at anything like the rate at which the car could travel was suggested by a remark which the chauffeur presently made:

"It's all very well for you to say whiz, and if I were to let her whiz she'd startle you; she's a 60, she is, and it's all I can do to keep her slow enough; but the police aren't fond of motor cars round these parts. Nice I should look if they were to trap me with you on board! The governor wouldn't say anything--he can't say anything--oh no! That would be about the end of me."

"Are the police hereabouts an active lot?"

"Active? I should think so! I seem to have seen more of them about to-day than I've ever seen. I thought it was the racing; but a chap I was talking to back there said there was something special up; he didn't quite know what it was, but he did know there was something. Like ferrets, the police are round here; I'd be sorry for anyone that they were after--they'd have him."