4:  Forecast Goes Visiting

Our hands were now pretty full, for we were watching Latchet as best we could. This, of course, by day only; for, now that they knew that some stranger had entered the ring, Forecast and Co. were not likely to work any more by night. Although, under cover of darkness, we could have approached the inn, that would have been of no use, unless we could hear what they said. But that would have meant going into the inn and upstairs, and “that,” said Mansel, “would be to ask for trouble of a very unpleasant kind. The horse has been stolen, of course; but it’s only human nature to watch the stableyard for a week to come.”

Of two things we wished to be sure – whether Forecast went to Schloss Varvic and whether, and if so when, he would send a telegram. And so, as I say, we watched Latchet as best we could.

Our method was this.

Three of us would drive to the crossroads which I have mentioned before. Two would then leave the car, and the third would drive to the lane, for this showed no sign of use and was the nearest place at which we could hide the car. The two would pass through the woods until they saw Latchet below them, sunk in its dell. From more than one point here, a man could see the Post Office as well as the inn, and from one particular spot he could look right into the coach-house, if only its doors were wide. With the help of binoculars, therefore, a pretty strict watch could be kept, and if anyone left the inn, we could see where he went without being seen ourselves. Every two hours one watcher would return to the crossroads, to meet the car and report; and if there was any news, the car could immediately carry it back to the farm.

On Friday this duty was done by George Hanbury, Rowley and Carson, while Mansel and Bell and I took the morning off. To be perfectly honest, Bell was washing the Lowland and Mansel was sitting beside me, busy with pencil and pad, and I was half asleep in the sunshine, listening to the murmur of the trout-stream and dreaming of Varvic in the moonlight and what a picture it made.

“I feel,” said Mansel, “that we must send Worsteds a wire – in Forecast’s name. If we don’t send one, he will; and ours will be much more likely to bring someone out. He’ll wire in the end, of course; but either he’ll put it too low, in which case they’ll send him instructions he can’t fulfil, or else he’ll put it too high, in which case he’ll frighten them off. To bring the big fellow out, he’s got to be made to believe, first, that there’s something wrong, secondly, that the game can be saved, and, thirdly, that only he can manage to pull it off.” He put the pad into my hand. “Bearing those facts in mind, d’you think that would do? Worsteds of course will believe it’s been sent by Boney or Gulf.”

I read the draft telegram through.

 

Forecast still in hospital carried on but found nothing so went to see his nibs waited two hours then told to come back next week please send money say twenty quid

WENSLEY

 

I covered my eyes and began to shake with laughter.

“I confess,” said Mansel, smiling, “that it has its humorous side. But business and pleasure do sometimes go hand in hand. Seriously, d’you think it’s too hot? I’ll never forgive myself if I frighten them off. The idea of Boney or Gulf’s visiting Varvic and trying to bluff the Duke will send them half out of their minds, but they may feel that, since he’s not seen them, they may be able, by coming, to keep the appointment instead.”

“I think it’s brilliant,” I said. “And the ‘still’ is a masterly touch. I wouldn’t alter a word. But I’d love to be there when they get it.”

“So would I,” said Mansel. “That’s the worst of these shows. One takes certain action, unknown to the other side. And you’d give a month of your life to be there when it takes effect. And to hear what they say. But you never are. It’s probably just as well; you’d laugh so much that you wouldn’t be able to stand. Never mind. We’ll send this wire this evening – from Salzburg, of course. The answer ought to be there by tomorrow midday. So we’d better spend the night there. I say ‘we,’ because I must go – I know how to deal with an accommodation address. But you and George must toss up as to who holds the fort.”

“George goes with you,” said I. “He’s had no show at all, and a night in Salzburg will suit him down to the socks.”

Mansel looked at me very hard.

“Right you are,” he said. “But no funny business, William. You’re not to go near Varvic. I mean what I say.”

I wrinkled my nose.

“We don’t want the Duchess followed on Sunday night.”

“She won’t be,” said Mansel. “On Sunday night we shall picket all three of the private roads. She’s bound to use one of them, and we stop her as she goes out. Then we turn off the tap on the feed-pipe and show her the way to the farm. And when she returns, we go with her, and we open the tap again when she reaches a private road. And then we come home.”

“That’s good enough,” said I. “But we can’t do it more than once.”

Mansel shrugged his shoulders.

“Sufficient unto the day,” was all he said.

And there I saw George Hanbury, strolling towards us with a comfortable smile on his face.

“All’s well,” he said. “They haven’t been near the Post Office. But China and Gulf have been splitting themselves on the car. Talk about spit and polish. They might have been hoping to win her some beauty prize. And good old Belper Orion cheering them on. All dressed up, he was – a study in brown. With a glass in his eye – I saw it – and a very rude hat on his head. And when China answered him back, he socked him one on the jaw. And China lay down and rolled. And Belper went and kicked him up to his feet. He’s a little caution, our Belper. He knows what he wants when he wants it, and that’s a fact. Then Boney comes out, all dressed up as a chauffeur, in navy blue. And dear Belper rehearses him in the stableyard. I tell you I laughed fit to burst. But he made him open a door and hold a hand to his hat. And China giggled and got knocked down again. It’s a pantomime, I tell you. If you saw it shoved on the stage, you’d swear it was overdone. And I saw it with these two orbs. Finally, off they go – Boney driving and Belper sitting behind. And Gulf and China laughing to beat the band. That they’re bound for Varvic, there can be no possible doubt.”

“Good,” said Mansel, laughing, and got to his feet. “And now let’s think about lunch. You’re spending the night in Salzburg, with me for chaperon.”

“Well don’t be too strict,” said George. “I haven’t walked into a night-club for more than three months.”

 

I was at the crossroads at two – with the Lowland this time, for Mansel and George were going to take the Rolls. As I slowed to a standstill, Rowley stepped out of the woods, to say that all was quiet and that neither Gulf nor China had left the inn. I bade him take my place and drive to the farm, break his fast there and be back by four o’clock. And then I went off to join Carson. All Latchet was very quiet, and, since it was very hot, the two of us took it in turns to doze and watch. At twenty minutes to four I sent Carson off to the crossroads, to send Rowley back to me and do as Rowley had done.

By now I was something surprised that Forecast had not returned, for from Latchet to Varvic was less than twenty-five miles, and Boney and he had left at eleven o’clock. From what I had seen of Duke Saul, I should have said that, without his letter of introduction, a man like Forecast would not have been admitted, much less received. But in such a case he would have been back by two. And when five o’clock had gone by, yet he had not come back, it seemed pretty clear not only that he had been received, but that he had convinced Duke Saul that, unless he took action of some sort, he himself was certain to be involved.

Thinking things over, I saw that, if Forecast told him the truth – that some person or persons unknown had now stepped into the ring and had actually in their possession the letter addressed to Duke Saul, the latter would be very angry, but greatly concerned. Such a letter was dangerous. And wild as he would be with Forecast and Worsted and Co., if he was to save himself, he would have to come in with them and to do his best to help them to bring the intruders down.

(Here perhaps I should say that Mansel had carefully copied both the letter of introduction and the very damning instructions which Forecast should have sent back. But he had taken the originals to Salzburg, as well as the four rogues’ passports and everything else. All this he was to lodge with the Bank in whose custody he had left the cloak-room receipt.)

And then another notion came into my head – a sinister notion that made me feel sick at heart. And all at once I knew that Mansel had had it, but, perhaps to spare my feelings, had not conveyed it to me. That was why he had looked at me so straightly and then had forbidden me to visit Varvic again.

Let me put it like this.

Mansel had heard my account of how I had met the Duchess and how we had hidden the fact that the coupé had entered the lane; of how we had driven to Varvic and had a look at the Duke. And he had asked very few questions; but one he had asked was this. “How long was the coupé in the lane?” And I had told him, “A little over an hour.” Which shows that he saw at once that, though we had hidden the place where the Duchess had stopped, we could not conceal the fact that she had spent more than two hours on a run which, though you drove slowly, took less than one.

The Duke would therefore know not only that she had stopped, but that someone whom she had met had observed the trail and had erased the portion which would, if left alone, have betrayed their meeting-place: and if he did receive Forecast and hear what he had to say, he would at once perceive that the Duchess herself was in touch with the people who now held the letter which Worsteds had written to him.

It seemed to me very likely that any moment now some storm or other would break; but I did not want it to break about the Duchess’ head.

At twenty minutes to six I sent Rowley off, with orders to send back Carson, take the car to the lane and wait there until we came.

Carson then watched with me for over an hour; but when dusk began to come in, yet Forecast had not returned, I told him to follow me and go down to the inn: “for,” said I, “I should like to see them arrive; and if we stay here, we shall only see the lights of a car.”

But I hoped in my heart that we should do more than that. In a word, I wanted to learn how Forecast had fared, and, if he related what had happened, to overhear what he said.

It was a fine, warm night, but the sky was overcast; and as we approached the inn, we heard two men talking English, and they were without the house. In fact, it was China and Gulf, sitting, smoking and drinking, and waiting for Forecast to return.

They were sitting at one of the tables, to the left of the door of the inn, for though we could not see them, the glow of their cigarettes declared where they were. Since no one in Latchet could talk English – or so, no doubt, they supposed – they did not lower their voices or seem to care what they said, and as we stole into earshot, I heard Gulf mention ‘the hostel’ and then ‘Biretta and Cain.’

Except for these two, we could hear or see no one at all, but Latchet was never busy, and after dark it was dead. And I think the truth is that, except for the people of the inn, the inhabitants rose with the dawn and were glad to retire with the dusk.

Now, glorious chance as this was, I could not forget that Forecast was overdue; and that if, when he did return, Boney drove the car up to the door, as he very well might, its lights would illumine the forecourt and make this as bright as day. Yet, if we were to hear what was said, we should have to enter the forecourt: for from where we now were standing – that is to say, in the road – we could only catch words here and there, and the conversation itself was out of our reach.

It was then that I remembered the benches, on one of which Gulf and China were sitting now. I had noticed these benches, when first I had seen the inn, and had marked that they were ‘coffered’ – that is to say, their fronts and their sides had been boarded from seat to ground. They were low, of course, but some seven or eight feet long, and, since they stood away from the wall, a man could lie down behind one and not be seen. As I have said before, one of these benches had been set on either side of the door. Between them, the steps ran down, so that the two were only some twelve feet apart. If, then, I could reach the bench to the right of the door, I should be able to hear what China and Gulf were saying, yet, if the car came in, I should not be seen.

The door of the inn was wide open, and a lamp, which we could not see, was burning within the hall; but this was not very bright, and the light which it shed only reached the head of the steps.

I breathed in Carson’s ear.

“I’m going into the forecourt. There’s cover enough for one, but not for two. So you go along to the path and get up to the coach-house hatch. They may drive straight into the coach-house. And wait there for me.”

“Have you got your pistol, sir?”

“I have.”

“Then take the safety-catch off. You don’t want to take any risks, sir, with men like this.”

“I’ll be all right, Carson.”

“I know, sir. But don’t you wait. If you’re seen, you throw your lead as quick as you can.”

My shoes, being soled with rubber, made no sound, and ninety seconds later I was standing at the end of the table to the right of the door of the inn.

China was speaking.

“I know, I know,” he said. “I’ve heard talk of things before that was goin’ to come out in the wash. But I don’t want my washin’ done in no Austrian jug. I want my — passport – that’s wot I want. This ain’t my line o’ country, an’ never was. He says he can fix the Dook. Well, Dooks ain’t fixed, my lad. At least, not by trash like Forecast. Don’t you make no mistake. I saw Forecast’s face when he saw that them papers was stole. White as a — sheet. He knew wot he done all right. An’ if only he’d got his passport, you wouldn’t have seen him for dust. But now he’s — well stuck. An’ so are we.”

“That,” said Gulf, “is where the Dook comes in. He don’t want us goin’ to Consuls to try an’ get home. So he’ll use his influence to get us tempory papers to take us away.”

“Sez you,” said China. “If he’s the big pot you say, I can see him vouchin’ for us. More likely to send some butcher to take us out for a ride. God knows it’s easy enough in country like this. An’ why didn’ he do in Bowshot?”

I suppose it was natural to stay where I was to hear the argument out. But it was very foolish. And I might have paid dear for such folly, for in that instant I heard the sound of a car.

Now I had expected that, since the night was so still, I should hear the car coming some time before it arrived: but the sound of Latchet’s water had smothered the sound it made, and, as my head went round, I saw the beam of its headlights illuminating the road.

“Here they are,” said Gulf, and got to his feet.

I felt for the bench and found it, and dropped like a stone. As the car swept into the forecourt, I dragged myself out of sight.

The car drew up to the steps, and somebody opened a door.

“You ain’t so early,” said Gulf. “We’d — near given you up.”

“The — was shooting,” said Forecast. “He never got in till six. But I saw him all right. Not for very long, but just long enough.”

The man’s voice was triumphant. I dared not think what he knew.

“Go on,” said Gulf: “go on.”

“He knows who stole those papers and laid me out. He didn’t mention names, but he gave me a map. We’re to meet him on Sunday evening – he showed me where. ‘An’ then,’ he says, ‘I’ll deliver him into your hands.’

There was a pregnant silence.

Then—

“Yes, but wot about our passports?” said China.

Boney laughed.

“Well, he mayn’t have them on ’im,” he said: “but, before we’re through with him, I guess he’ll be ready an’ willin’ to cough them up. Oh, an’ tell ’em about the farm.”

“Upstairs,” said Forecast, setting a foot on the steps. “Besides, that may be a wash-out. But he must be staying somewhere, and they used to have people to lodge there before the war.”

With that, he passed into the house, and China followed him in. But Gulf got in beside Boney, who let in his clutch and moved off.

As the car turned out of the forecourt, I got to my feet…

Carson had little to add to what I had heard, for, whilst they were in the coach-house, Boney had talked of the castle and nothing else.

But, as we walked back to the car, I kept thinking of Mansel in Salzburg and wondering at what time tomorrow he and George would get back.

 

We stayed at the farm the next day, for to watch the inn any longer would have been waste of time. Besides, I was not at all sure that the rogues would not visit Goschen: and if they were to do that, I felt it was better that we should be found at home. What line to take, if they came, I could not think; but I told the servants to be on the tips of their toes and that, though, if Forecast appeared, I would play the hand, they had better be within earshot, but out of sight.

I confess that I hoped against hope that Mansel would be back before any visit was paid, for, though I should have been very happy to offer the utmost violence to any that came, I was sure that Mansel would deal with them better than that. And so would George. Indeed, of us three, I was by far the least fitted for such an interview. Still, there was nothing to be done; so I spent my time at the trout-stream, cleaning a jolly sluice, and doing my best to divine the plans which the Duke was making for Sunday night.

This was an unsatisfactory exercise.

‘He knows who stole those papers and laid me out… We’re to meet him on Sunday evening – he showed me where. An’ then, he says, I’ll deliver him into your hands.’

This was a positive statement, strongly suggesting that the man was sure of his ground. And yet I could not see how he could be sure of his ground…

He might have reason to know that the Duchess meant to drive out upon Sunday night. He could not know where she was going, and he could no longer rely on the trail of oil. True, he could follow her closely; but, if he did that, how could he communicate with Forecast? He could, of course, place the latter at the mouth of one of the drives; but how could he tell which drive my lady would take? And of one thing I was quite sure – Duke Saul had no intention of being involved. He would set Forecast on, but he would not appear himself.

To and fro my mind went, discussing these facts and fancies as best it could, but I never got very far, although I toyed with the thought of putting Forecast’s car out of action on Sunday afternoon.

And then at half-past two that blackguard, with Gulf and Boney, drove up to the farm’s front door.

Since he could speak no German, he had no change at all of the farmer’s wife; but after some hesitation, he strolled across the meadows to where I stood in the stream.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “I don’t think I know your name.”

I looked him up and down.

“That may be,” said I, and went on with my work.

He threw back his head and laughed.

“It looks as though I’m unwelcome.”

“Well, I am rather busy,” I said, “and this is private ground.”

“So’s my room at Latchet,” he said.

I straightened my back.

“Then I should go back there,” I said. “I don’t know where Latchet is and I care rather less. But at least you’d be chez vous, if you understand French.”

I saw his eyes narrow at that.

“You don’t seem to understand that I’ve come to call.”

“If you understood German, you’d know that I wasn’t receiving this afternoon.”

“Cut it out,” he said, biting his lip.

I frowned.

“Look here,” I said. “I’ve come all the way from England to get away from people and be by myself. Does that make you think at all?”

“It makes me wonder why you should keep late hours.”

“I retire at ten,” I said, “if that’s any good.”

“And you don’t know Latchet?”

I stared.

“I’ve never heard of the place.”

He screwed a glass into his eye.

“I can’t quite believe that,” he said.

I stepped out of the trout-stream, turned my trousers down and stepped into my shoes.

As I bent to fasten my laces—

“Is my action suggestive?” I said.

“You’d better not try any rough stuff.”

“What do you do,” said I, “when a stranger first forces his company upon you and then calls you a liar, because you don’t agree with the statements he chooses to make?”

Forecast’s eyes burned in his head.

“I bide my time,” he said.

“That’s the difference between us,” I said. “I deal with the matter at once.” I raised my voice. “Bell.”

“Sir?” said Bell, stepping out from behind an oak, seven paces away.

“Stand perfectly still,” snapped Forecast, pistol in hand.

Carson was directly behind him, but not within reach.

“As you please,” said I, with my eyes on his feet. “But I think if I were you I’d look out for that snake.”

As the fellow started backward, Carson flung himself forward and caught his wrist; and, as he fired into the ground, Bell hit him on the point of the jaw and laid him out.

“Quick,” said I. “His pockets – before he comes to.”

Out of his inside breast-pocket, Bell plucked a map.

This was of a very large scale, and since it had been folded inside out, all ready for use, I saw in an instant the markings which no doubt the Duke had made. These were done in blue pencil, and showed the way from Latchet to a point between five and six miles from the castle itself. The point itself was a building, which stood in a wood, and was in fact approached from the road which Bell and I had taken when we were driving to Varvic on Thursday night.

I noted it carefully. Then I gave the map to Bell and he thrust it back into the pocket from which he had taken it out.

As he stood up and away—

“Nothing else, Bell?”

“No, sir. Nothing at all.”

“Have you got his pistol?” I asked.

“In my pocket, sir,” said Carson.

“All right. You two go and comfort Rowley. I’ll watch him wake up.”

(As I afterwards learned, they found Rowley holding the others on the edge of the drive. When the shot had been fired, they had turned to make for the meadows, only to find him facing them, pistol in hand. And there the three had stood, till Carson and Bell arrived and ordered Gulf and Boney into the car. But first they searched them for arms and took a pistol from Gulf.)

Forecast came to slowly, and then sat up with a start.

First his hands flew to his pockets. Then he looked hard at me: and then he looked over his shoulder and round about.

A hand went up to his chin.

“Three to one,” he said. “No wonder you got me down. Never mind. I’ll know you again.” He began to search the grass just about him. “You don’t see my eye-glass, do you?”

I shook my head.

“Well, if you should see it, keep it. I’m sure to be back.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Well, you’ll have to be quick,” said I. “I’ll give you till midday Monday. If you’re not out of Latchet by then, I go to the police. I think we come under Villach.”

His eyes still searching the grass—

“I don’t think you will,” said Forecast. “If you weren’t shy of the police, you’d go to them now.”

“If I wasn’t a fool, I should. But I came to this place to be quiet – not to get involved in proceedings which might keep me here for two months.”

Forecast stood up and looked me full in the eye.

“You’ll stay longer than that, my son. A whole heap longer than that. Unless, of course, they take you back to England – to bury you there.”

“That’ll do,” said I. “You’d better be going now. Back the way you came. I’ll see you into the car.”

Forecast glared. Then he turned on his heel and made his way back to the drive.

In the car were Gulf and Boney, sitting with folded arms. The expression upon their faces was good to see. Gulf was sweating profusely, and Boney’s lips were moving as though in prayer. They were sitting side by side in the front of the car, and Carson was standing by the window, also with folded arms. But, whereas their hands were empty, in Carson’s right hand was the pistol which Forecast had used.

Without another word, their leader let himself into the back of the car.

As he slammed the door behind him, Carson glanced at me, and I nodded my head.

“Start her up and drive off,” he snapped.

Boney’s hands sprang to life…

Forecast leaned to his window.

“Don’t forget that eye-glass,” he said.

Then the clutch went in with a bang and pitched him back on his seat.

 

 

Two and a half hours later the Rolls, bringing Mansel and Hanbury, entered the stableyard.

They had with them two telegrams.

Both were addressed to WENSLEY, and one was four days old.

 

Instructions not received as arranged stop if you have not already done so you will post these to me immediately

BAUCHEN

 

 

The other was eight hours old.

 

Arriving Latchet myself Monday stop do nothing till then stop on no account go to castle

 

 

And this was signed CAIN.

When Mansel had heard my tale, he called for the map.

“Show me exactly,” he said, “the spot at which Forecast proposes to meet Duke Saul.”

I showed him.

“And now the way there from Latchet, as it was marked in blue.”

I showed him that.

After a moment’s calculation—

“I make the distance from Latchet just about eighteen miles. That means half an hour by car. The meeting is to be ‘in the evening’; and that means ‘not before six.’ So they’ll turn out the car about five. We must try and put their car out of action about four o’clock. You see my point. If we do in their car too soon – and they find it out, they will have time to keep their appointment without the use of their car. And I do not want them to do that, because it is so much better that we should keep it instead.

“This may precipitate matters, but not very much. When Forecast rolled up here, you were quite right to put up a bluff. But he is dead certain to call it. He can have no doubt at all that the seat of opposition is here at this farm. When Rowley produced his pistol, that settled that – for tourists don’t carry pistols and hold callers up. But Rowley could have done nothing else, for he couldn’t take risks with blokes like Boney and Gulf.

“What worries me is the Duchess. She’s safe at the moment, because the Duke means to use her tomorrow night. But, after that…I mean, he can have no doubt that she knows a great deal too much. However, we’ll see what she says tomorrow night.”

“Will he let her come? “ said I.

“I’m sure he will. He means her to be their guide.”

“But if we meet him at six?”

“If we meet him at six,” said Mansel, “Duke Saul will stay where he is, till the Duchess has left the castle en route for the lane.” He rose to his feet and started to pace the room. “It’s on the drastic side, but I don’t see another way out; for if Forecast keeps his appointment, he will also keep the appointment the Duchess has made with you. Of course, you know, if Forecast was worth his salt, he would drive to Varvic tonight – or, at latest, tomorrow morning. But he isn’t worth his salt, so I don’t think he will.”

“Why tonight or tomorrow morning?”

“To put the Duke wise,” said Mansel. “To tell him exactly what happened this afternoon – that he had visited Goschen, bearing upon him the map which the Duke had marked; and that, since he had lain unconscious for three or four minutes of time, for all he knows, you may have studied that map. If Forecast did that, as it is his clear duty to do, the Duke would immediately alter the rendezvous. But Forecast won’t do that. Confessions of failure are never pleasant to make: and so he’ll keep his counsel and hope for the best.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” said George, “if he saw the breakers ahead. Talk about confessions of failure! What ever is going to happen when Cain drives up to that inn? I’d give a month of my life to be in on that scene. Confusion confounded won’t be in it. They’ll shout one another down for the first half-hour.”

“I agree,” said Mansel, laughing. “From the moment Cain arrives, there’ll be the devil to pay. Cain, of course, will spread Forecast all over the floor. Then he’ll go off to Varvic, there to be spread all over the floor himself. And then they’ll take hold of themselves and get down to things.” He hesitated, biting his lip. “We’ve had all the luck to date, but now we’re going to come up against heavier stuff. Cain is no damned fool and Duke Saul is a powerful man. And both will be very frightened. ‘Such men are dangerous.’ We shall have to be very careful from Tuesday on.”

“To be perfectly honest,” said George, “I’m all for coming to grips. The party will be complete on Monday night. The big five – three wilful murderers and the two unpleasant beings who set them on. When do we begin the process of elimination?”

“As soon as they try to,” said Mansel. “They’re bound to try to get us, and that is our chance.”

“You don’t think that Cain will leg it?”

“I don’t think so,” said Mansel. “If he had known what had happened, I don’t believe he’d have come. But once he’s here, I don’t think he’ll run away. After all, the matter is grave. That letter and those instructions would make very awkward exhibits, if any inquiry was held upon Bowshot’s death. Then again Forecast will watch him – and so will the other three. They may even pinch his passport. After all, he sent them here; and they will contend that he’s got to get them out. And so, by God, he has. He daren’t leave them here to go to the British Consul and spill the beans.”

“You’re right,” said George. “He’s in a jam and a half. And his only chance of escape is to wipe the three of us out.”

“That’s how I see it,” said Mansel. He turned to me. “Was there anything else, William?”

I told him of my concern as to which of the private drives the Duchess would use, when she set out for the lane on Sunday night.

“But,” I added, “that doesn’t matter now. If the Duke isn’t there when she leaves, he can’t sit on her tail. Still, I’m sure that he knows which drive she is going to take, and I cannot see how he can know.”

“Nor can I,” said Mansel. “And yet I’m sure you’re right. For how can he post Forecast, if he doesn’t know where she’ll emerge? And I don’t agree that it doesn’t matter now. It will simplify matters for us, if we know which drive she will take; for it’s better to stop her by Varvic than to let her leave a trail which leads to the lane. But perhaps we shall be wiser before we go to bed. I’m sorry to be such a bore, but I want you to take us to Varvic as soon as we’ve dined. I want to see the lay-out and get a good idea of the lie of the land.” He set a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t think I don’t trust your reports – they’ve been terribly good. But nothing’s the same as seeing things for yourself.”

 

My second visit to Varvic, I paid at ten that night. Myself I drove the Lowland as far as the mouth of the northern private road, that is to say, the drive which Bell and I had taken on Thursday night. Mansel sat by my side, with George and Carson behind. Mansel and George and I alighted at the mouth of the drive, and Carson took my seat, with orders to berth the car in some convenient place and then return to the drive and wait for us. For we were to go on foot; for then, if some car came by, we should not be seen.

Nearly an hour went by before we saw the moonlight upon the meadows ahead, for for most of the time we were climbing, and, though the road was dark, we showed no light.

Since again the moon was shining out of a cloudless sky, the castle and its surroundings showed up as well as before, and Mansel and George were both immensely impressed. When they had looked their fill, we turned to the right and began to compass the castle, walking in the meadows, but keeping to the edge of the woods.

After, perhaps, three hundred and fifty yards, we came upon the second or western drive, and at once we saw, looking down it, that this was under repair. From where we were standing, its surface looked very good; but nearer the castle loads of chips had been shot and drums of, no doubt, cold tar, were lying upon the roadway, ready for use.

“And there’s the answer,” said Mansel. “This drive is blocked. And when we come to the next one, you’ll find that that’s under repair. And there’s the advantage of being an autocrat. On Friday Saul calls for his bailiff and says, ‘Repair these two drives – the material to be in place on Saturday night.’ And it is so.”

He was, of course, perfectly right. When we came to the southern drive, we found that that, too, was obstructed, so that no car could pass. And yet, like that of the other, its surface was perfectly good.

We made the circuit of the meadows, but, since the garage was shut, we did not approach the walls of the castle itself. We then returned to where Carson had berthed the car, and drove from there to the mouths of the other two private roads. These we studied with care. And then we drove to the spot which the Duke had marked on the map, where he proposed to meet Forecast upon the following day.

It took me a little time to be sure of my way, for the map which Forecast had had was of a much larger scale than any that we could procure, and it had shown many details which did not appear upon ours. After a little, however, I stopped where a road on the left ran into a wood.

“It’s down there,” I said. “It must be. And not very far. What’s more, we’d better walk, for I think it’s a farm and that this is the road of approach. I know it’s a building of sorts, for the map showed that.”

So again we took to our feet, to walk for a long half-mile through very thick woods: the road of approach was more of a track than a road and had not seen regular use for a very long time. And then the woods gave way, and there stood a hunting-lodge.

A glance was enough to show us that it was desolate.

I have seen deserted habitations that still retained some charm; but this was sinister. It gave forth a smell of corruption – and worse than that: and the woods were advancing upon it as though they would swallow it up. Rank grass was sprouting between the cobblestones, and a rabble of fungus was thrusting beside the door. From this the paint was peeling, as it was from the shutters by which the windows were hid, and stains on the walls swore to gutters which had been choked. At the back of the place, which was only two storeys high, was a lot of stabling which had not been used for years, where some of the woodwork was rotting and giving way. But, as I have said, it was not that the place was neglected and had been let go: there was about it a cold and dreadful air, as though it had harboured evil, and things which must not be talked of had happened within its walls.

“Ugh,” said George, with a shudder. “I wouldn’t come here alone for fifty quid. I’ll lay a ducat it’s haunted. It fairly reeks of murder and sudden death.”

“I quite agree,” said Mansel. “And it isn’t imagination. There’s something very shocking about this place. Anyway, let’s be going. We’ve done what we came to do, and we’ve had a full day.”

Forty minutes later we were back at the farm.