He left the house and regained the clump of brushwood in which he had hidden the bicycle. But he did not withdraw the machine. Instead, after a quick glance round he crept in beside it, pulling the bushes over him to make sure that he was invisible from the road. From his hiding-place he could see the entrance to “Torview,” as the colonel had named his house.
He was waiting on a pure chance, but after an hour he found that his luck was in. He heard the sounds of an engine being started up, and presently saw a small green car turn out of the drive and disappear in the direction of Ashburton. In the car was Colonel Domlio.
French allowed another twenty minutes to pass, then crawling out of the brushwood, he returned to the house. Burt again opened the door.
“I’m sorry to trouble you again, Mr. Burt,” he apologised, with his pleasant smile, “but I forgot to ask Colonel Domlio a question. Could I see him again just for a moment?”
“Colonel Domlio went out about half an hour ago, sir.”
“Ah, that’s very unfortunate.” French paused and looked disappointed, then brightened up. “Perhaps you could give me the information, if you would be so kind? I don’t want to have to come back another day.”
Burt was obviously disconcerted. But he tried to hide his feelings and reluctantly invited the caller into the study.
“Yes, sir?” he said.
French instantly became official and very stern. He swung round, frowning at the other and staring him full in the face. Then he said, harshly: “It is you I want to see, Burt. You lied to me this afternoon. I have come back to hear the truth.”
The man started and fell back a pace, while dismay and something like terror showed on his features.