behind the house_."

Behind them came the gruff and the shrill tones of L'Ami Fritz and his
wife raised in indignant expostulation.

"Are you coming, Sylvia?" called out Chester impatiently.

He had gone on into the garden, unwilling to assume any responsibility as
to the police. After all, there was no _evidence_, not what English law
would recognise as evidence, against these people.

Out in the darkness, with the two men, one on either side of her, Sylvia
walked slowly to the gate. Between them they got her over it and into the
victoria.

Paul de Virieu pulled out the little back seat, but Chester, taking quick
possession of it, motioned him to sit by Mrs. Bailey.

"To Paris, Hôtel du Louvre," the Count called out to the driver. "You can
take as long as you like over the journey!"

Then he bent forward to Chester, "The air will do her good," he murmured.

By his side, huddled up in a corner of the carriage, Sylvia lay back
inertly; but her eyes were wide open, and she was staring hungrily at the
sky, at the stars. She had never thought to see the sky and the stars
again.

They were now moving very slowly, almost at a foot's pace.