LYNBOROUGH DROPS A CATCH
"Something has happened!" (So Lynborough records the same evening.) "I don't know precisely what—but I think that the enemy is at last in motion. I'm glad. I was being too successful. I had begun to laugh at her—and that only. I prefer the admixture of another element of emotion. All that ostensibly appears is that I have lost five shillings to Roger. 'You did it?' I asked. 'Certainly,' said Roger. 'I went at my ease and came back at my ease, and—' I interrupted, 'Nobody stopped you?' 'Nobody made any objection,' said Roger. 'You took your time,' says I. 'You were away three hours!' 'The water was very pleasant this afternoon,' says Roger. Hum! I hand over my two half-crowns, which Roger pockets with a most peculiar sort of smile. There that incident appears to end—with a comment from me that the Marchesa's garrison is not very alert. Another smile—not less peculiar—from Roger! Hum!
"Then Cromlech! I trust Cromlech as myself—that is, as far as I can see him. He has no secrets from me—that I know of; I have none from him—which would be at all likely to interest him. Yet, soon after Roger's return, Cromlech goes out! And they had been alone together for some minutes, as I happen to have observed. Cromlech is away an hour and a half! If I were not a man of honor, I would have trained the telescope on to him. I refrained. Where was Cromlech? At the church, he told me. I accept his word—but the church has had a curious effect upon him. Sometimes he is silent, sulky, reflective, embarrassed—constantly rubbing the place where his hair ought to be—not altogether too civil to me either. Anon, sits with a fat happy smile on his face! Has he found a new tomb? No; he'd tell me about a new tomb. What has happened to Cromlech?
"At first sight Violet—the insinuating one—would account for the phenomena. Or Norah's eyes and lashes? Yet I hesitate. Woman, of course, it is, with both of them. Violet might make men pleased with themselves; Norah could make them merry and happy. Yet these two are not so much pleased with themselves—rather they are pleased with events; they are not merry—they are thoughtful. And I think they are resentful. I believe the hostile squadron has weighed anchor. In these great results, achieved so quickly, demanding on my part such an effort in reply, I see the Marchesa's touch! I have my own opinion as to what has happened to Roger and to Cromlech. Well, we shall see—to-morrow is the cricket match!"
"Later. I had closed this record; I was preparing to go to bed (wishing to bathe early to-morrow) when I found that I had forgotten to bring up my book. Coltson had gone to bed—or out—anyhow, away. I went down myself. The library door stood ajar; I had on my slippers; a light burned still; Cromlech and Roger were up. As I approached—with an involuntary noiselessness (I really couldn't be expected to think of coughing, in my own house and with no ladies about)—I overheard this remarkable, most significant, most important conversation:
"Cromlech: 'On my soul, there were tears in her eyes!'
"Roger: 'Stabb, can we as gentlemen—?'
"Then, as I presume, the shuffle of my slippers became audible. I went in; both drank whisky-and-soda in a hurried fashion. I took my book from the table. Naught said I. Their confusion was obvious. I cast on them one of my looks; Roger blushed, Stabb shuffled his feet. I left them.
"'Tears in her eyes!' 'Can we as gentlemen?'
"The Marchesa moves slowly, but she moves in force!"