“What’s your next move?” I questioned.
“I want to have another look around Prescott’s bedroom. I should also like to glance at his papers—but Baddeley pouched those—his check-book might be interesting too. Yes, I must have another look up there.”
“How are you going to manage it?”
“This way. I’m going to ask Sir Charles to cover me by engaging me, so to speak, to clear up the affair on his behalf. You know what I mean. Terrible disgrace to Considine Manor, and all that, to have this mystery unsolved. Poor young fellow done to death, in a charming English country house, where he is staying as a guest. Must get to the bottom of it for the sake of the family name, you know. Otherwise, if Scout Baddeley finds me poking about too much in bedrooms and around footprints, he’ll take the bull by the horns and arrest A. L. Bathurst, Esq. Get me, Bill?”
Truth to tell, it did seem pretty terrible to think that a delightful place like Considine Manor could harbor the crime it did. It was another English summer morning after the rain of the night before. It seemed to breathe freshness, and grass, and new-mown hay, and butterflies and cricket—all that pageant of hot July that no other country in the world can give.
“What about Canterbury?” I ejaculated.
“Giving it a miss! I can’t very well rush off and bury myself in a round of gaiety after what’s happened here. Besides, I shouldn’t be surprised if Baddeley has something chatty and snappy to say about any of us leaving yet awhile at any rate.”
“Have you let them know?”
“No, I’ll wire later. Let’s get back now, and I’ll see Sir Charles.”
We strolled back, and the reflection came to me how suddenly our immediate outlooks had changed. A few hours ago Anthony had the prospect of a glorious week at Canterbury. Similarly, I had been anticipating a delightful time in various delightful places—an English country house takes a bit of beating during real summer—and now! Look at it how you would—this sinister affair inevitably impinged in some way on the lives of all of us who were staying in the house. I, for one, try as I might, could not shake off its shadow.