“It will be an education to me to meet him.”
“Then the Eastern end of the Mediterranean would be too hot for you in summer, and in winter one is liable to get a dusting in the Bay that I’m afraid you wouldn’t enjoy; not in a little tub like the Astarte.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’d mind that. Anyhow, I could go overland and pick you up at Marseilles or wherever you are calling.”
“Yes. You could do that. I’ll tell you what, you’d better try a short cruise first to see how you like it. We could have a look round the Channel Isles. In fact we want to go to Guernsey. We’ll talk it over with Welfare.”
I went to bed cherishing a hope that Edmund might forget or abandon his proposed exploration of the tunnel. But an inveterate ringing of the anvil during our breakfast, and Edmund’s evident attention to it, warned me that such hopes were vain.
He instructed Bates to procure a pick and shovel and a lantern, and demanded what time he would be at liberty to assist him in exploring.
“I could be finished for an hour perhaps about ten o’clock,” said Bates, “unless Mr. Davoren wants me for anything special.”
“Oh no,” I said. “I shall be busy all morning.”
I could see the fellow was as keen as a schoolboy on this nonsensical burrowing, and that the quick instinct of a servant had somehow detected that I did not care about it. But I felt it was better to surrender with a good grace.
Presently I watched the two of them disappear down into the cellars with pick and shovel, some gardener’s baskets, a stable lamp and an electric torch.