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The Exodus From London
So,quiteunexpectedly,mybrotherfoundhimself,panting,withacutmouth,abruisedjaw,andbloodstainedknuckles,drivingalonganunknownlanewiththesetwowomen.
HelearnedtheywerethewifeandtheyoungersisterofasurgeonlivingatStanmore,whohadcomeinthesmallhoursfromadangerouscaseatPinner,andheardatsomerailwaystationonhiswayoftheMartianadvance. Hehadhurriedhome,rousedthewomen—theirservanthadleftthemtwodaysbefore—packedsomeprovisions,puthisrevolverundertheseat—luckilyformybrother—andtoldthemtodriveontoEdgware,withtheideaofgettingatrainthere. Hestoppedbehindtotelltheneighbours. Hewouldovertakethem,hesaid,atabouthalfpastfourinthemorning,andnowitwasnearlynineandtheyhadseennothingofhim. TheycouldnotstopinEdgwarebecauseofthegrowingtrafficthroughtheplace,andsotheyhadcomeintothissidelane.
Thatwasthestorytheytoldmybrotherinfragmentswhenpresentlytheystoppedagain,nearertoNewBarnet. Hepromisedtostaywiththem,atleastuntiltheycoulddeterminewhattodo,oruntilthemissingmanarrived,andprofessedtobeanexpertshotwiththerevolver—aweaponstrangetohim—inordertogivethemconfidence.
Theymadeasortofencampmentbythewayside,andtheponybecamehappyinthehedge. HetoldthemofhisownescapeoutofLondon,andallthatheknewoftheseMartiansandtheirways. Thesuncrepthigherinthesky,andafteratimetheirtalkdiedoutandgaveplacetoanuneasystateofanticipation.