"When did this come, Billy?" I asked.
"A boy brought it last night about half-past nine. I happened to be in here, so I told them you were staying at Ashton, and would no doubt be calling round after breakfast. Not a bad shot—eh? Who is it? The lady with the gun?"
I tore open the envelope and quickly read the contents—
"I will be in the old windmill just beyond Barham Bridge at four o'clock."
There was no signature, but I didn't need one.
"Since you took up detective work, Billy," I said, "your powers of deduction are improving."
He chuckled, and coming back from behind the bar flung open the French window.
"Let's go out into the garden," he said. "I've tons to tell you, and the barmaid will be back here in a minute."
We went down the steps which led to the square patch of lawn behind the house, and seated ourselves on an old wooden bench in the sunshine.
"Things are moving," I said, taking out a pipe and beginning to fill it with some care. "Maurice and I have just been interviewing the local inspector. The attempted murder of Mr. Stuart Northcote is now a problem for the police."