Sir Clinton’s face showed what he thought.
“Well, I tell you what,” Arthur proposed. “There’s a tree near the river-bank which overlooks part of the Maze if one gets high enough in it. Suppose I swarm up it and see if I can spot anything? Now that he’s out of action, it’s safe enough.”
Sir Clinton welcomed the idea.
“That’s a good scheme. He might be shamming, after all; and I won’t take any risks by sending anyone into the Maze till I’m sure. If you keep well inside the leaves you’ll be safe enough in any case. And if you find he’s dead, it’ll save us a long wait.”
Arthur dropped his rifle and went off to put his project into execution. After he had gone Sir Clinton turned to Wendover.
“Not much family affection left in the Whistlefield circle, Squire. But can you wonder, after all. Friend Ernest wasn’t the sort of man who’d attract much liking at the best; and that boy was very keen on his sister, undoubtedly. I have a certain sympathy with his feelings. And I can tell you I’ve been on pins and needles for some time back lest young Hawkhurst should find out who the murderer really was and take the law into his own hands at once. He wouldn’t have been hanged, of course; that mental instability of his would have saved him. But it would have been a case for Broadmoor; and that’s not much better than the drop in his state. It’s a relief to get it all over as easily as we have done.”
In a few minutes, Arthur came back with his report.
“He’s lying on the ground in Helen’s Bower. I couldn’t see very clearly; but from the way he’s lying, I think he’s done for.”
“Well,” said Sir Clinton, “I’d better get into the Maze and make sure of things.”
He reflected for a moment, then added: