Fearing lest his quick eye should detect my presence, I stood there motionless as a statue.
The pair, in earnest conversation, suddenly strolled away over the fallen leaves at the edge of the wood, whereupon Tramu emerged silently from his hiding-place and crept after them, I being compelled to remain where I was.
So the French police had traced Shaw to his place of concealment!
I longed to give him warning, but was unable. What should I do? How should I act?
Asta was at the Bath Hotel at Bournemouth. At least I could ring her up on the telephone, and tell her what I had seen! So the watcher and the watched having disappeared, I hurried across the park until at length I gained the main road, and went on at a brisk pace till I was back again at my hotel.
It took me a full hour to get on to Bournemouth, and after long delay I at last heard her sweet, well-remembered voice at the instrument.
I expressed regret at awakening her, but told her that I was leaving by motor in half an hour to meet her.
“Where is your father?” I inquired.
“I don’t exactly know. He left me at Burford Bridge Hotel, at Box Hill, last Monday, and I came here to await him. Five days have gone, and I’ve had no letter.”
“Then he hasn’t been to Bournemouth?”