Were those frogs croaking? He could hear it plainly above the twitching and pulsing of insects. By God! that marshy odour was stronger; it was no illusion. There must be some natural explanation of it — the heat of the day released from the ground, or something. He wished he knew more about nature. The trees had begun to whisper uneasily again. Inside the house, a clock bonged out a single note.
"Half-past ten," grunted his host. "And I think that's the rector's car coming up the lane."
Unsteady headlights were gleaming there. Bumping and rattling, a high old Model T Ford — the kind they used to tell the jokes about-swung round to a stop, the rector looking huge on his perch. He hurried over in the moonlight, catching up a chair from the front of the lawn. His bluff and easy airs were not so much in evidence now; Rampole had a sudden feeling that they were assumed, for social purposes, to cover an intense self-consciousness. They could not see his face well in the gloom, but they knew he was perspiring. He panted as he sat down.
"I snatched a quick meal, he said, "and came straightway. Did you arrange everything?"
"Everything. She'll telephone when he leaves. Here, have a cigar and a glass of beer. How was he when you saw him last?"
A bottle jittered and clicked against the side of a glass. "Sober enough to be frightened," the rector answered. "He went for the sideboard as soon as we reached the Hall. I was of two minds as to whether to stop his drinking. Herbert's got him in hand, though. When I left the Hall he was sitting up in his room lighting one cigarette from the end of the last; he must have smoked a whole box
just while I was there. I — er — I pointed out the deleterious effect of so much tobacco — No, thanks; I won't smoke — on his system, and he flew at me."
They all fell silent. Rampole found himself listening for the clock. Martin Starberth would be watching it, too, in another house.
Inside the house, the telephone rang stridently.
"There it is. Will you get the message, my boy?" asked Dr. Fell, breathing a little faster. "You're more spry than I am."