He stood there rigidly, almost afraid to take the cigar from his lips,
whilst Enid sped without further need for caution down the drive. The
lodge-gates were closed and the deaf porter's house in darkness, so that
Enid could unlock the wicket without fear of detection. She rattled the
key on the bars and a figure slipped out of the darkness.

"Good heavens, Ruth, is it really _you_?" Enid cried.

"Really me, Enid. I came over on my bicycle. I am supposed to be round at
some friend's house in Brunswick Square, and one of the servants is
sitting up for me. Is Reginald safe? He hasn't yet discovered the secret
of the tradesman's book?"

"That's all right, dear. But why are you here? Has something dreadful
happened?"

"Well, I will try to tell you so in as few words as possible. I never
felt so ashamed of anything in my life."

"Don't tell me that our scheme has failed!" "Perhaps I need not go so far
as that. The first part of it came off all right, and then a very
dreadful thing happened. We have got Mr. David Steel into frightful
trouble. He is going to be charged with attempted murder and robbery."

"Ruth! But tell me. I am quite in the dark."

"It was the night when--well, you know the night. It was after Mr. Steel
returned home from his visit to 219, Brunswick Square--"

"You mean 218, Ruth."