"Have you seen three men on bicycles?"
The angler shook his head.
The Englishman insisted:
"Yes, yes.... Three men.... They stopped only a few yards from where you are."
The angler put his rod under his arm, took a note-book from his pocket, wrote something on one of the pages, tore it out and handed it to Shears.
A great thrill shook the Englishman. At a glance, in the middle of the page which he held in his hand, he recognized the letters torn from the picture-book:
C D E H N O P R Z E O—237
The sun hung heavily over the river. The angler had resumed his work, sheltered under the huge brim of his straw hat; his jacket and waistcoat lay folded by his side. He fished attentively, while the float of his line rocked idly on the current.
Quite a minute elapsed, a minute of solemn and awful silence.