“That is a terrible challenge!” exclaimed Miss Du Prel.
A light laugh sounded across the lawn.
The afternoon sunshine threw four long shadows over the grass: of a slightly-built woman, of a very tall man, and of two smaller men.
The figures themselves were hidden by a group of shrubs, and only the shadows were visible. They paused, for a moment, as if in consultation; the lady standing, with her weight half leaning on her parasol. The tall man seemed to be talking to her vivaciously. His long, shadow-arms shot across the grass, his head wagged.
“The shadows of Fate!” cried Valeria fantastically.
Then they moved into sight, advancing towards the terrace.
“Who are they I wonder? Oh, Professor Fortescue, for one!”
“Lady Engleton and Joseph Fleming. The other I don’t know.”
He was very broad and tall, having a slight stoop, and a curious way of carrying his head, craned forward. The attitude suggested a keen observer. He was attired in knickerbockers and rough tweed Norfolk jacket, and he looked robust and powerful, almost to excess. The chin and mouth were concealed by the thick growth of dark hair, but one suspected unpleasant things of the latter. As far as one could judge his age, he seemed a man of about five-and-thirty, with vigour enough to last for another fifty years.
“That,” said Valeria, “must be Professor Theobald. He has probably come to see the house.”