They walked down to the margin of the pond and then looked back. Bill’s tree stood up and took the evening, tall and unmistakable, fifty feet nearer to heaven than its neighbours. But it had its fellow at the other end of the copse, not quite so tall, perhaps, but equally conspicuous.
“That’s where I shall be,” said Antony, pointing to it. “Now, for the Lord’s sake, count your posts accurately.”
“Thanks very much, but I shall do it for my own sake,” said Bill with feeling. “I don’t want to spend the whole night diving.”
“Fix on the post in a straight line with you and the splash, and then count backwards to the beginning of the fence.”
“Right, old boy. Leave it to me. I can do this on my head.”
“Well, that’s how you will have to do the last part of it,” said Antony with a smile.
He looked at his watch. It was nearly time to change for dinner. They started to walk back to the house together.
“There’s one thing which worries me rather,” said Antony. “Where does Cayley sleep?”
“Next door to me. Why?”
“Well, it’s just possible that he might have another look at you after he’s come back from the pond. I don’t think he’d bother about it in the ordinary way, but if he is actually passing your door, I think he might glance in.”