I knew I was near Croydon--the last place I would have suspected as a brigands' stronghold.

Then we halted, and that wretched man lifted me out, carried me into a back room of an old-fashioned house, put me in a fairly comfortable chair, tied me in with ropes, and left me.

I couldn't speak.

I was looking at a blank wall and smoke-stained ceiling.

I was sure then that he was after money, and began to calculate the time which must elapse before my husband would hear from him and arrange for my release.