By the time the dishevelled police had Mr. Biggleswade secured, and
could turn their attention to them, the children were half a mile away.
Tinker's hands had been torn by the savage rascal, and on the way to
Cadogan Square he was busy staunching their bleeding. By tearing his
handkerchief in two he managed with Elizabeth's aid to bandage both;
but he was vexed that they must make such an unpleasant appearance
before her relatives. When they reached Cadogan Square he paid the
cabman, and rang the bell; but when the door opened, Elizabeth assumed
the leadership. She caught Tinker's hand, dragged him past the
astonished footman, hurried him up the stairs, and burst with him into
a drawing room, where half a score of mournful people were discussing
over their tea the further measures for her recovery.
"I've come back, mamma! And this is Hildebrand Anne Beauleigh, but his
real name is Tinker!" cried Elizabeth.
In a breath Mrs. Kernaby had her in her arms; there were screams and
pantings, and a bandying to and fro of smelling salts. Everyone was
hugging Elizabeth, or shaking hands with Mr. Kernaby, or slapping one
another on the back and assuring one another that they had always said
so. Tinker watched their exuberance with some distaste, which
redoubled when Elizabeth's tangled and incoherent tale drew upon him
the embraces of half a dozen animated and highly scented ladies of the
kind who haunt the houses of unprotected millionaires.
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