The proceedings (equally treacherous and merciless) by which Sir Giles had provided for his own safety, had delayed--perhaps actually prevented--the execution of Lord Harry's humane design.

It was possible, horribly possible, that a prompt employment of time might have been necessary to the rescue of Arthur from impending death by murder.

In the agitation that overpowered her, Iris actually hurried the police on their return to the town.
Sir Giles had arranged to wait for news in his private room at the office--and there he was, with Dennis Howmore in attendance to receive visitors.
The Sergeant went into the banker's room alone, to make his report.

He left the door ajar; Iris could hear what passed.
"Have you got your prisoner ?" Sir Giles began.
"Yes, your honour." "Is the wretch securely handcuffed ?" "I beg your pardon, sir, it isn't a man." "Nonsense, Sergeant; it can't be a boy." The Sergeant confessed that it was not a boy.

"It's a woman," he said.
"What!!!" "A woman," the patient officer repeated--"and a young one.