Chris Kennedy’s answering remark was cut short, rather fortunately, Abbershaw felt, by a single and, in the circumstances, highly dramatic sound – the deep booming of the dinner gong.
CHAPTER XIX
Mr Campion’s Conjuring Trick
The six young people went down to the big dining-hall with a certain amount of trepidation. Jeanne clung to Prenderby, the other two girls stuck together, and Abbershaw was able to have a word or two with Mr Campion.
‘You don’t like the idea?’ he murmured.
The other shrugged his shoulders.
‘It’s the risk, my old bird,’ he said softly. ‘Our pugilistic friend doesn’t realize that we’re not up against a gang of racecourse thugs. I tried to point it out to him but I’m afraid he just thought I was trying to be funny. People without humour always have curious ideas on that subject. However, it may come off. It’ll be the last thing he’ll expect us to do, anyway, and if you really have burnt that paper it’s the best thing we could do.’
‘I suppose you think I’m a fool,’ said Abbershaw, a little defiantly. Campion grinned.
‘On the contrary, young sir, I think you’re a humorist. A trifle unconscious, perhaps, but none the worse for that.’
Their conversation ended abruptly, for they had reached the foot of the staircase and were approaching the dining-room.
The door stood open, and they went in to find the table set for all nine of them, and the two men who had acted as footmen during the week-end awaiting their coming. They sat down at the table. ‘The others won’t be a moment, but we’ll start, please,’ said Campion, and the meal began.