“But how silly!” said Miss Lebetwood. “All I can do is to wander about the strawberry trees looking for tennis balls I know won’t be there.”
“It’s all make-believe, you know,” answered Heatheringham. “And I can’t change the parts around, can I?”
“I don’t see how my doing that can help.”
“Still,” insisted the detective deferentially, “it will assist me a lot if you’ll just go through the motions. Now, is everybody clear about what he’s to do?”
“Shall I fetch hot water for Mr. Bannerlee, sir?” asked Soames, who had been admitted to our company.
“That’s hardly essential. But you might carry an empty pannikin to give mental support. Now, shall we commence? Some of the ladies may need coats. It’s beginning to blow a bit.”
“Not fair unless you tell us what you’re going to do yourself,” protested Lib.
“I’m going to be here, there, and everywhere,” said Heatheringham. “You may even hear me giving a few stage directions. Come on, people, I want my tea. One, two, three, go.”
Little gusts of wind were stirring. Evening frost had caused a marvellous change in the foliage, and the air was chromatic with flying leaves. They blew in my face while I breasted my way to the north end of the sycamore park, where I turned to retrace my steps. Through the dim light of the wood, I saw the black forms of Maryvale and Doctor Aire together on the porch of the abandoned summer-house. They nodded when I came nearest them. I reached the bridge, the cypresses, the lawn, the mansion itself. I saw people beyond the gate-house.
Suddenly I remembered that to keep in character I must peer into the Hall, and my flesh began to crawl at the thought of seeing the grim, phantasmal bone. I would not see it, of course, but if I did—