"How can you, how dare you, hesitate ?" "Drive on!" cried the stranger.
"Drive on, at your peril," Iris added, on her side.
The cabman sat, silent and stolid, on the box, waiting for events.
Slowly the men came in view, bearing Lord Harry, still insensible.

The handkerchiefs on his throat were saturated with blood.

At that sight, the cowardly instincts of the stranger completely mastered him.

"Let me out!" he clamoured; "let me out!" Finding the cab left at her disposal, Iris actually thanked him! He looked at her with an evil eye.

"I have my suspicions, I can tell you," he muttered.