VIII—The Storm Breaks.It was on a Friday evening that Willoughby had taken us for that memorable ride, and with the Monday that followed, began the most dreadful week of all my life. Peril faced me from two entirely different directions, and had my opponents only pooled their knowledge, I should have been at once incarcerated behind prison bars.
The expected and the unexpected both happened, and in each instance my safety and my freedom hung balanced on a razor's edge.
And yet the week began so happily, too. I had a letter from Mr. McLaren, and he wrote almost in an affectionate vein. He said how much he missed me, and how he hoped I should soon come back. He would always be pleased to see me, and I was to remember that I could always invite myself to a week-end with him, whenever I wish
