"Are we alone?" demanded Miss Fowler, not giving Edith time to proclaim
her joy at seeing her. "Well, I've arranged a way to get him out," she
went on, her lips set.

"Out?" murmured Mrs. Medcroft.

"Of course. We can't let him stay in there all night, Edith. How much
money have you? Hurry up, please! Don't stare!"

"In where? Who's in where?"

"He's in gaol!" with supreme scorn. "Haven't you heard?"

Mrs. Medcroft began to cry. "Mr. Brock in gaol? Good heavens, what shall
I do? I--I was depending on him so much. He ought to be here at this
very instant. What has he been doing?"

"Edith Medcroft, stop sniffling, and don't think of yourself for a
while. It will do you a great deal of good. Where's your money?"

Ruthlessly she began to rummage Edith's treasure trunk. The other came
to her assistance after a dazed interval. The family purse came to
light.

"I have a little over four thousand crowns," she murmured helplessly.

"Give it me, quick. There's no time to waste. I have about five
thousand. It's all in notes, thank heaven. It isn't quite enough, but
I'll try to make it do. Don't stop me, Edith. I haven't time to answer