"Is Beale content?" he asked.
"Eh?"
Milsom, dozing in the corner of the car, awoke with a start.
"Is Beale content with his prize—and his predicament?" asked van Heerden.
"Well, I guess he should be. That little job brings him a million. He shouldn't worry about anything further."
But van Heerden shook his head.
"I don't think you have things quite right, Milsom," he said. "Beale is a better man than I thought, and knows my mind a little too well. He was astounded when Homo claimed to be a priest—I never saw a man more stunned in my life. He intended the marriage as a bluff to keep me away from the girl. He analysed the situation exactly, for he knew I was after her money, and that she as a woman had no attraction for me. He believed—and there he was justified—that if I could not marry her I had no interest in detaining her, and engaged Homo to follow him around with a special licence. He timed everything too well for my comfort."
Milsom shifted round and peered anxiously at his companion.
"How do you mean?" he asked. "It was only by a fluke that he made it in time."
"That isn't what I mean. It is the fact that he knew that every second was vital, that he guessed I was keen on a quick marriage and that to forestall me he carried his (as he thought) pseudo-clergyman with him so that he need not lose a minute: these are the disturbing factors."