With this comforting assurance, we separated to dress for dinner.
The latter meal, and indeed all the rest of the evening, passed off cheerfully enough. Lady Baradell and Miss York both seemed to be in excellent spirits, chaffing us unmercifully over the very minute bag of duck (one and a half couple) which we had managed to bring back from our expedition. I could not help wondering what they would have said if they had known as much about the sporting possibilities of the Suffolk coast as I did.
I went to bed early, and just for a change passed a quite uneventful night. I had become so used to entertaining beautiful ladies or grappling with would-be assassins that for a time I felt positively neglected. However, if the night was dull, the next day promised to be exciting enough, so I consoled myself with this reflection and went peacefully off to sleep.
The topic of our visit to the police was broached tactfully at breakfast next morning by Maurice.
"I am afraid Stuart and I will have to run over to Woodford on business," he announced.
There was an immediate chorus of protest from the ladies. "Oh, but we've promised to give them their revenge at tennis," said Miss York.
"I didn't know there was any business at Woodford," remarked Lady Baradell. "I thought the entire population spent their time talking politics at the street corners."
"Oh, it's only a little matter," said Maurice. "It won't take us long. We'll drive over in the trap, and I'll be back here by eleven."
"Well, if you must go," put in Aunt Mary, "you might tell Cooper to send some marmalade. You remember, Stuart; Maurice is sure to forget."
I pledged my word that the marmalade should be faithfully dispatched; and with these two somewhat incongruous errands before us, we set forth after breakfast in a dogcart. Maurice, who was handling the reins, seemed to be a little depressed.