“Oh, I worked on it. We all worked on it! I even got little Danny Nugent from Soho to try his hand. Remember Danny? He used to stay awake nights working out ciphers so the police couldn’t read them. He says the dye cipher is impossible—that it follows no known rule.â€�
“Sir Richard told me that,â€� said Fay. “Well, we got the answer,â€� he added, glancing keenly around. “We got it, Saidee, and we’re going to deliver it in person. We—â€�
She clutched his arm at that moment.
“What is that moving up the canal?� she asked tensely. “See it, Chester! Is it a boat, close to the bank?�
He drew her down and stared through the latticed
bars of the summer-house. A shadow moved within the bank’s shadow. A ripple showed like the gleam of a silver wing. Sounds of oars in locks floated to them. Then, and suddenly, all was still. A murky billow rolled over the lowland and blotted out the canal from view.
He reached and drew the bags to him. He thrust his fingers within a crack and lifted a sodden plank. Leaves and moss were beneath the flooring. A toad hopped away.
“There’s room here,� he said, pressing down the two bags. “We’ll come back for them when we find a ship.�
Replacing the plank, he rose and stared toward where he had seen the shadow. The fog had thickened. He could see nothing save the dark surface of the canal.
They crossed to the shore, after he had closed the little bridge with the board. They glanced back, then hurried on toward the Schwartz Canal. The pathway they took was winding and long.