“And time, sir,” said the man. “They'd ha' broken down all the shrubs in the place if orders hadn't been given! They were mad to see where the gentleman fell—came in crowds at dinnertime.”
Bryce nodded, and was turning away, when Dick Bewery came round a corner from the Deanery Walk, evidently keenly excited. With him was a girl of about his own age—a certain characterful young lady whom Bryce knew as Betty Campany, daughter of the librarian to the Dean and Chapter and therefore custodian of one of the most famous cathedral libraries in the country. She, too, was apparently brimming with excitement, and her pretty and vivacious face puckered itself into a frown as the policeman smiled and shook his head.
“Oh, I say, what's that for?” exclaimed Dick Bewery. “Shut up?—what a lot of rot! I say!—can't you let us go in—just for a minute?”
“Not for a pension, sir!” answered the policeman good-naturedly. “Don't you see the notice? The Dean 'ud have me out of the force by tomorrow if I disobeyed orders. No admittance, nowhere, nohow! But lor' bless yer!” he added, glancing at the two young people. “There's nothing to see—nothing!—as Dr. Bryce there can tell you.”
Dick, who knew nothing of the recent passages between his guardian and the dismissed assistant, glanced at Bryce with interest.
“You were on the spot first, weren't you?” he asked: “Do you think it really was murder?”
“I don't know what it was,” answered Bryce. “And I wasn't first on the spot. That was Varner, the mason—he called me.” He turned from the lad to glance at the girl, who was peeping curiously over the gate into the yews and cypresses. “Do you think your father's at the Library just now?” he asked. “Shall I find him there?”
“I should think he is,” answered Betty Campany. “He generally goes down about this time.” She turned and pulled Dick Bewery's sleeve. “Let's go up in the clerestory,” she said. “We can see that, anyway.”
“Also closed, miss,” said the policeman, shaking his head. “No admittance there, neither. The public firmly warned off—so to speak. 'I won't have the Cathedral turned into a peepshow!' that's precisely what I heard the Dean say with my own ears. So—closed!”
The boy and the girl turned away and went off across the Close, and the policeman looked after them and laughed.