But again, Charles Batty was not an
ordinary man. Trusting to that fact, she went to her room and provided
herself with money, and, having listened without a qualm at
Henrietta's door, she ran out of the house.
The church facing The Green sounded the three-quarters and there, on
the seat by the old stone, sat Charles, his hands in his pockets, his
hat pulled over his eyes in a manner likely to rouse suspicions in the
mildest of policemen.
He rose. 'Where's your hat?'
'No time,' she said.
He repeated his lesson. 'We were to walk towards the avenue.'
'Yes, but I daren't. I want to keep in sight of the house. Come with
me. Here's money. Don't lose it.'
He held it loosely. 'Some one's been playing "The Merry Peasant" for
half an hour,' he said. 'I'll never sit here again.'
'Charles, take care of the money. You may need it. There's ten
pounds--all I had--but perhaps it will be enough. I want you to watch
our gate, and if Henrietta goes out, please follow her, but don't let her
see you.'
'Oh, I say!' he murmured.
'I know. It's hateful, it's abominable, but you must do it.'
'She won't be pleased.'
'You must do it,' Rose repeated.
'She's sure to see me. Eyes like needles.'
'She mustn't. She'll probably go by train. If she goes to London, to
this address--I've written it down for you--you may leave her there
for the night and let me know at once. If she goes anywhere else, you
must go with her.
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