‘A sail, a sail, captain,’ he said. ‘It must be her. Put some speed into it, Michael.’
‘All right. If we seize up or leave the road, on your head be it,’ said Prenderby, through his teeth. ‘She’s all out now.’
The hedges on either side of them became blurred and indistinct. Finally, in the long straight strip between Marks Tey and Lexden, they slowly crept up behind the big car again.
‘That’s her all right,’ said Martin; ‘she’s crawling, isn’t she? Comparatively, I mean. I believe Abbershaw’s hit it. She’s keeping an appointment. Look here, let’s drop down and shut off our head-lights – the sides will carry us.’
‘Hullo! Where’s he off to now?’
It was Michael who spoke. The car ahead had taken a sudden turn to the right, forsaking the main road.
‘After her,’ said Martin, with suppressed excitement. ‘Now we’re coming to it, I do believe. Any idea where that leads to?’
‘No,’ said Michael. ‘I haven’t the least. There’s only a lane there if I remember. Probably the drive of a house.’
‘All the better.’ Martin was enthusiastic. ‘That means we have located them anyway.’
‘Wait a bit,’ said Michael, as, dimming his lights, he swung round after the other car. ‘It’s not a drive. I remember it now. There’s a signpost over there somewhere which says, “To Birch”, wherever “Birch” may be. Gosh! No speeding on this road, my children,’ he added suddenly, as he steered the Riley round a concealed right-angle bend in the road.