She was silent--unaccountably silent as the men thought--on the way to
the town. They heard her sigh: and, once, the sigh sounded more like a
sob; little did they suspect what was in that silent woman's mind at
the time.

The one object which had absorbed the attention of Iris had been the
saving of Lord Harry. This accomplished, the free exercise of her
memory had now reminded her of Arthur Mountjoy.

It was impossible to doubt that the object of the proposed meeting at
the milestone had been to take measures for the preservation of the
young man's life. A coward is always more or less cruel. The
proceedings (equally treacherous and merciless) by which Sir Giles had
provided for his own safety, had delayed--perhaps actually
prevented--the execution of Lord Harry's humane design. It was
possible, horribly possible, that a prompt employment of time might
have been necessary to the rescue of Arthur from impending death by
murder. In the agitation that overpowered her, Iris actually hurried
the police on their return to the town.

Sir Giles had arranged to wait for news in his private room at the
office--and there he was, with Dennis Howmore in attendance to receive
visitors.

The Sergeant went into the banker's room alone, to make his report. He
left the door ajar; Iris could hear what passed.

"Have you got your prisoner?" Sir Giles began.