“Neither do I. Let’s go and have a look outside!”
They scanned the white stretch of road that wound its serpentine-like way through the green of the countryside. For the moment their eyes saw nothing—then Anthony spoke to his companions. “Our man—I fancy!” He pointed in the reverse direction to that in which they had been looking.
“Traveling pretty fast, too,” muttered Goodall.
“He’s a trifle late—that’s why,” replied Anthony. In a few moments the big car spun into the inn-yard with Charles Stewart at the wheel. His face seemed set and anxious.
“Sorry if I’m a bit behind time, Bathurst,” he apologized, “I miscalculated the distance this place was away—I hope it hasn’t inconvenienced you at all.”
Anthony got into the car and sat next to him. “We were getting a bit worried about you—that was all. I’ll travel back with you! Daventry—you drive the Inspector in the Colonel’s car. Make straight for ‘Neuve Chapelle’!”
The two cars swung out on to the road—Peter in the “Bentley” leading.
“I should like to get back to the Colonel’s by ten to ten at the latest,” exclaimed Anthony. “Can we do it?”
“Easy,” said Stewart. “I’ll let her out when we get on to the Rockinge road—it’s bound to be pretty clear there—it always is.”
“What about O’Connor, Bathurst?” he continued. “Did you see him all right as you desired?”