AT BOGNOR
you're in one. That's my meaning, I believe. What can I do? I would do anything to help you."
Her brow puckered, as she watched him make, with infinite emotion, this remarkable speech. "You!" she said. She was tumultuously weighing possibilities in her mind, and he had scarcely ceased when she had made her resolve.
She stepped a pace forward. "You are a gentleman," she said.
"Yes," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"Can I trust you?"
She did not wait for his assurance. "I must leave this hotel at once. Come here."
She took his arm and led him to the window. "You can just see the gate. It is still open. Through that are our bicycles. Go down, get them out, and I will come down to you. Dare you?"
"Get your bicycle out in the road?"
"Both. Mine alone is no good. At once. Dare you?"
"Which way?"
"Go out by the front door and round. I will follow in one minute."
"Right!" said Mr. Hoopdriver, and went.
He had to get those bicycles. Had he been told to go out and kill Bechamel he would have done it. His head was a Maëlstrom now. He walked out of the hotel, along the front, and into the big, black-shadowed coach yard. He looked round. There were no bicycles visible. Then a man emerged from the dark, a short man in a short, black, shiny jacket. Hoopdriver was caught. He made no at-
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