Man!"-- his disgust, impatience broke out, for the first time--"try to think what you're running away from! It's a long rope, and it'll take you all your time and wits to get beyond its reach.

And think of the risk I'm running; I'm compounding a felony.
I--Harry Jacobs!" Heyton rose, clutching at the table, chair; his quivering lips opened and shut; at last he cried hoarsely, "Damn you!" "That's all right, my lord," said Mr.Jacobs.

"I'm glad I've roused your spirit.

Here, pull yourself together--your face is giving you away.
Upstairs and pack! The carriage will be waiting." He held open the door; and Heyton, with a glance at him which meant murder, passed out.
Half an hour later, Celia saw Lord Heyton enter the brougham.
"Is Lord Heyton going away ?" she asked, with surprise, as she saw the footman place a small portmanteau on the box.

She hurried into the hall as she spoke, and it was Mr.Jacobs, who was standing there with Mrs.
Dexter, who answered her.
"Yes, Miss Grant," he said.