‘At the circus!’ she exclaimed, then blushed as red as the vermilion wheels of the electric car. ‘You are an excessively rude man!’ she said.
‘I admit it,’ he answered.
‘But I forgive you,’ she continued, more mildly; ‘your intentions are generous.’
‘They are,’ said Richard, and privately called himself a hundred different sorts of fool.
Why, why had he warned her against espionage? Why had he stultified his own undertaking, the whole purpose of his visit to Queen’s Farm, Hockliffe? Was it because of her face? Was Richard Redgrave, then, like other foolish young men in spring? He admitted that it appeared he was.
When they arrived at the farm Richard deposited his hostess at the front-door, and ran the car round to the outbuildings, calling for Micky. But Micky was not about He saw the stable-door open, and, dismounting, he entered the stable. There was no sign of Micky. He went into the harness-room and perceived Micky’s coat still hanging on its peg. He also perceived something yellow sticking out of the inside pocket of the coat He made bold to examine the pocket, and found a French book—the Memoirs of Goron, late chief of the Paris police.
‘Rather a strange sort of Irish tramp,’ Richard thought, ‘to be reading a French book, and such a book!’
With the aid of the admirable collection of tools in Mr. Raphael Craig’s workshop, Richard, who was decidedly a gifted amateur in the art of engineering, set to work on the damaged motor-cars, and an hour before lunch-time both the Panhard and the Décauville voiturette were fully restored to the use of their natural functions. He might easily have elongated his task, after the manner of some British workmen, so as to make it last over the week-end; but he had other plans, and, besides, he was not quite sure whether he wished to continue the quest which he had undertaken on behalf of Mr. Simon Lock.
At twelve o’clock he made his way to the house, and found Micky weeding the drive. The two mares were capering in the orchard meadow which separated the house from the road.
‘Well, Mike,’ said Richard, ‘I see you’ve lived in France in your time.’