“Yes—thanks! I’ve arranged all that I wanted.” He paused and looked at his companion. “I’m rather afraid that events have crowded upon us very quickly, Mr. Stewart, and that coming so soon after this morning they may have proved a severe strain upon you—but there is this much to be said, I hope to clear up the whole business within the next few hours.”
Stewart nodded. “It will be a great relief—perhaps in time I may school myself to forget it all . . . except that wretched will, though . . . that’s likely to be a permanent obstacle.”
“Nine-fifty-two,” he announced eventually as they drew up outside Colonel Leach-Fletcher’s. “Not bad going that.”
The Colonel was not in, the maid-servant informed them. He had gone out after ten on foot and had not yet returned. Mr. Bathurst thanked her, and in the circumstances would put the “Bentley” into the garage if she would see that it was unlocked for him! Peter ran it in as smoothly and in as businesslike a manner as possible.
“Yours too, Mr. Stewart,” instructed Anthony. “You’re leaving it here to-night—you know—and completing the rest of the journey with us on foot!”
Stewart looked a little bewildered, but by this time had become quite prepared to obey Mr. Bathurst’s orders without asking too many questions.
“If we walk smartly,” declared Goodall, “we ought to be there by a quarter to eleven, and that’s quite late enough in my opinion. . . . Step it out, gentlemen, until I give the word to stop you.”
The four were quickly into their stride—Peter Daventry wondering where it was all going to end. He put his hand in the pocket of his coat and felt the butt of his revolver. He was prepared, at any rate, should it turn out to be a “rough house.” Old Bathurst evidently thought it might by his references to the revolver. He jerked at Anthony’s sleeve. “That’s the second mile-stone since we started—another quarter of an hour or so ought to bring us pretty close to the Lodge.”
Anthony nodded, and for the next ten minutes or thereabouts the little party walked in silence. Suddenly Goodall, who was leading, stopped, and turning in his tracks, approached the others. “We’re just on there,” he whispered, “and we must all keep very quiet. Is there anything more you want seen to, Mr. Bathurst?”
“How many men have you posted round the house, Goodall?” asked Anthony.