4

How Daphne was Given a Present,

and Jonah Took off His Coat

Dusk had come into the panelled dining-room, and the radiance the candles lent to the tablecloth made bold, as the bark of a puppy, to speed the parting day. And something else it did. It showed to great advantage the beauty that graced our board. On my left, my sister, Daphne, recalled the dark perfection of Reynolds’ days: on my right, my golden-haired cousin remembered those pretty princesses that live in the fairy-tales: on the other side of the table, the natural and lively sweetness of Perdita Boyte suggested a hamadryad acquainted with Vanity Fair. One other thing held the eye – and that was the pink champagne. The table was jewelled with six little rose-coloured pools, that caught the sober light and made it dance and sparkle with infinite mirth.

“I’m all disappointed,” said Perdita. “White Ladies ought to have a ghost. I mean, if ever there was a house…”

“That,” said Berry, “is what I have always said. This place would be stiff with ghosts – if there were such things.”

“But there are,” said his wife. “Just because you don’t happen to have seen one—”

“Neither have you,” said Berry. “None of us have.”

“I know people who have,” said I.

“Who say they have,” said Berry. “But they’re always short of a witness to bear them out.”

“There’s Abbess’ Oak,” said Jill.

“A legend,” said Berry, “that no one on earth can confirm.”

“I dare you,” said I, “to stand alone under that tree for a quarter of an hour on end on a winter’s night.”

My brother-in-law frowned.

“Certainly not,” he said. “I don’t believe in apparitions, but I do believe in a presence you cannot see. And that can be most disconcerting.”

“Then you do believe the legend,” said Jonah.

“No, I don’t,” said Berry, “but I’m not going to take any risks. If by chance it was true, the lady would resent my intrusion, and I don’t want any spirits biting my neck.”

“Bigot,” said Daphne. “You value your unbelief.”

“He’s none to value,” said I. “You ought to have been at Cockcrow, when they wanted to put him to sleep in the haunted room.”

Berry addressed Miss Boyte.

“Happily,” he said, “I am proof against the darts of the ungodly. This I attribute entirely to meekness of soul – a quality more apparent to the lower animals than to certain blasphemous lepers who defile the faculty of speech. Besides, the room was hung with black arras.”

Perdita shuddered.

“That was unfair – even to a heretic. Please may I hear the legend of Abbess’ Oak?”

I emptied my glass.

“Once upon a time,” said I, “an abbey stood here – an abbey of nuns. It had the reputation of being immensely rich. It was, as were many others, suppressed by Henry the Eighth: but, in this particular case, the abbey was burned to the ground – and five years later this house was built on the site. That is all matter of fact: and now for the legend. The Abbess was warned that the King’s men were on their way, so, before they came, she got all the treasure away and sent it down to the coast and over to France. Robbed of their spoil, the King’s men went mad with rage: and they not only burned the abbey but they hanged the Abbess herself from a bough of the oak that stands by the mouth of the drive. And ever since then her ghost has walked of nights where the crime was done.”

Perdita took a deep breath.

“Was nothing left of the Abbey?”

“Only the cellars,” said Berry. He lifted his glass. “This wine came out of them. They’re simply gigantic. In fact, unless the nuns entertained a good deal, one is forced to the conclusion that the abbey was justly suppressed.”

“I’d love to see them.”

“Tomorrow morning,” said I.

“The dowser,” said Daphne, “is coming tomorrow morning.”

“For a fee of ten guineas,” said Berry. “You know, you make me tired.”

“You won’t be tired if he finds us another spring.”

With a manifest effort, Berry controlled his voice.

“There are moments,” he said, “when I could bark with emotion. Bark… To hear you talk, nobody would dream we’d ever had a dowser before – and dropped two hundred quid because we believed what he said.”

There was an uneasy silence.

The remembrance was more than grievous. At the place which the wizard selected, we had dug an expensive well. At forty-two feet we found water, and at forty-three we found rock – exactly one foot of water, forty feet down. And when we had pumped it dry, the well took twelve hours to refill…

“Well, we must do something,” said Daphne. “The garden—”

“We must have water brought,” said Berry. “Conveyed by road.”

“Hopeless,” said Jonah. “We’d need six carts a day for the lawns alone.”

“Then,” said Berry, “we must deepen the wells we have.”

“Out of the question,” said Jonah. “If we are to have more water, we’ve got to find a new spring. And that is where the water diviner comes in. I don’t like taking his word: but we’ll prove him right or wrong for a matter of thirty pounds.”

“It isn’t the money,” said Berry. “It’s the knowledge that we’ll have been done – for the second time…in the crudest possible way. You wouldn’t have a child on twice, and we’re not infants-in-arms.”

“Force majeure,” said I. “There’s nothing else to be done.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said Jill. “We can watch the Knave. He’ll know if the dowser’s honest. And if the Knave doesn’t like him, we needn’t dig.”

“Better still,” said Berry. “We bury a bottle of whisky before he comes, and while he’s walking about we watch his nose. If this begins to go red, we write home and warn his wife. And when he’s gone, with his cheque—”

“I know,” said Perdita. “Couldn’t you lay a trap? Hide one of the wells, and see if he finds it out?”

There was an electric silence. Then—

“The stable well,” said Jonah. “Ground sheet over the flap and a flower bed on top. You know. Like they make them for shows. Old Thorn will love to do it, but we’ll have to tell him tonight. And here’s a health to the lady for being so wise.”

We drank it rapturously.

“She’s a paying guest,” said Berry. “That’s what she is. I feel quite different already. My gorge is falling and my spleen is fast assuming proportions less inconvenient to its distinguished company.”

Perdita smiled.

“If I’m bright tonight, you must thank your very good wine.” She touched her glass. “Did the nuns leave this behind them? It’s terribly rare.”

“The custom of the house,” said Berry. “Tomorrow is the chatelaine’s birthday. In less than twenty-four hours my hag will be sixty-nine.”

“Common man,” said Daphne. “Last year I was twenty-seven, so now I am twenty-six. Entirely between ourselves, the Bilberry register will tell you I’m thirty-two.”

Perdita lifted her glass.

“I’m so glad to be here,” she said gently, and left it there.

The diviner compassed the flower bed, rod in hand. We watched him guiltily. After a little, he set a foot on the mould… And then he was full in the bed and was wiping the sweat from his face.

“There’s water here,” he said shortly. “Abundant water…at twenty to twenty-one feet.”

Berry took the bull by the horns.

“We congratulate you,” he said quietly. “You’re perfectly right.”

Frowning a little, the other stepped out of the bed. “Trying me out, eh? I might have known. There’s plenty of sceptics about.”

“We should like to beg your pardon,” said Berry. “But it’s fair to ourselves to tell you that two years ago we were very badly let down.”

The diviner nodded abruptly.

“Plenty of them about, too.” He pushed back his hat and tapped with his foot upon the ground. “There’s a fine spring here.” He laughed. “Good enough for a village, but not for a place like this.”

The procession reformed: but we followed no longer as critics, but in humble respect for a talent we could not deny. So far as I was concerned, the man was a proven wizard – and that was that. The gardeners who brought up the rear were deeply impressed. Only the Knave showed indifference – or, rather, a faint surprise that we should honour a stranger whom he had rejected the moment he saw his face. The dog can hardly be blamed. The fellow was most unattractive, and so were his ways. Manners may not make magic, for all I know.

We left the walled kitchen-garden to enter the orchard beyond…

Strolling by Perdita’s side, I found it strange that Nature should have chosen for her prophet a practical, business man. About the diviner there was nothing at all of the earth. That the country bored him was plain. He belonged to the town. With his precious gift, the fields should have been his office, the open sky his windows, the brooks his books. But the man was a man of business and his rod was a fountain pen.

I murmured my feelings to Perdita.

“The shepherd’s complaint,” she replied. “You must live and let live, Lycidas – though you may have been born out of time.”

“There spoke Amaryllis,” said I. “Supposing—”

The diviner’s voice cut me short.

“There’s a spring hereabouts. A good one. It mayn’t be where you want it. I can’t help that.”

“It’s quite all right here,” said Berry. “Isn’t it, Thorn?”

“A good head of water here, sir, would do us uncommonly well.”

The diviner seemed to cast to and fro. After a little he straddled and pointed between his feet.

“Have you got a peg?” he demanded.

Thorn came forward and pressed a peg into the soil.

“At twenty-five feet,” said the other. “Perhaps twenty-four.”

“No rock?” said Berry.

“Rock be damned. You’re lucky. I’ve found you a master spring. It’s waste of time going on. You’ve got what everyone wants.”

“I’m greatly obliged,” said Berry. “Come back to the house. I guess you can do with a drink.”

“I guess I can,” said the other, and mopped his face.

Berry and I did the honours, and that in the library. At first we had to work hard, but under the touch of liquor our guest relaxed. This to our great relief. If what he told us was true – and we had no doubt that it was – the fellow had done us a service worth very much more than his fee. We were appropriately grateful. To have our advances rejected was most discouraging.

“I notice,” said I, “that you don’t work with a twig.”

Sitting on the arm of a sofa, the diviner shook his head.

“I can: but I don’t have to. If a man can really find, he can find with a bit of old iron. I’ve done it with wire – more than once. But some things are better than others. It all depends how you’re made.” He took a soft case from his coat. “I’ve three rods here. They’re all of them specially built.” He slid one out of its sheath and put the others away. “Now that’s one that I use…”

With his words I saw the rod move and the sentence died on his lips.

“Good lord, more water?” said Berry.

Frowning slightly, the dowser got to his feet.

“Looks like it,” he said abruptly. “What’s beneath here?”

“Wine cellars,” said I. “But they’re as dry as a bone.”

Rod in hand, the other nodded.

“It’s a long way down,” he said slowly. “You’ve nothing to fear.” He put the rod away and picked up his cheque. “And now I’ll be off,” he added. “If you’ve time to burn, I haven’t – and that’s a fact.”

His ill humour was back in full force. The slightest use of his talent seemed to lay bare his nerves.

In an awkward silence, we walked with him to his car. There we thanked him again and he asked us the way to Brooch. As his two-seater stormed down the drive—

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” said Berry. “He may be a giddy wizard – I think he is – but of all the offensive…”

“Exactly,” said I. “But I don’t believe the man’s normal.”

“Yes, he is,” said Berry. “As normal as you and I. He’s a Communist – that’s his trouble. One of the red-hot type…that wants to bring to ruin all homes like ours. And we employ and shelter twenty-two souls.”

My sister leaned out of the oriel above our heads.

“My dears, what a birthday present! A master spring. What does that mean exactly?”

“I imagine,” said I, “that it means a very rich source.”

“And you do believe in him, Berry?”

“If I didn’t, my sweet, he’d have gone twenty minutes ago – with a master flea in each ear.”

“Poor man,” said Daphne. “Perhaps he’s a master spleen.”

Three days had gone by, and the new well was nine feet deep. So much Jonah reported, measuring tape in hand. The hour was sundown, and we had but just come home, to rush to the scene of the labour which was to confirm or deny the report the diviner had made.

“Outrageous,” said Berry. “They haven’t done three feet today.”

“It’s been very hot,” said Daphne.

“It’s not skilled labour,” said Berry, “and they’ve got five men on the job. Any fool can dig a hole in the ground.”

Jonah looked up.

“He’s perfectly right. We could dig it faster ourselves. If we put in four hours tomorrow…”

“I’m game,” said I.

“That’s the style,” said Berry heartily. “I only wish I could help.”

“Don’t be a fool,” said Jonah. “We must have three.”

“Why can’t you help?” said Jill.

“I’ve got to see the dentist,” said Berry. “Heaven knows—”

“Have you got an appointment?” said Daphne.

My brother-in-law swallowed.

“Polteney always sees me—”

In a burst of indignant derision the rest of the sentence was lost.

“All right, all right,” said Berry. “I’ll put it off. After all, what is thrush?” He took up a pickaxe and weighed it – with starting eyes. “I think I’d better work at the top.”

“Half-hour shifts,” said Jonah. “We shan’t want very much on.”

“We’d better work barefoot,” said Berry. “Then when we slice our feet off, we shan’t have any boots to be cut away.”

“Any fool,” said I, “can dig a hole in the ground.”

“With reasonable tools,” said Berry. “That pickaxe—”

“It’s the weight that does it,” said Jonah. “You’ll see what I mean when you’ve swung it for a quarter of an hour.”

As soon as Berry could speak—

“We’d better not,” he said shortly. “We shall only offend the men. When they find we’ve been doing their work – Yes, Falcon?”

I turned to see the butler two paces away.

“I came to say, sir, the men went off early today. It’s the foreman’s silver wedding. But they’re going to make it up, sir, on Saturday afternoon.”

“God bless them,” said Berry with emotion. “God bless their simple souls.”

“They were very anxious, sir, that you shouldn’t think them indifferent to your desires. They’re very grateful for the beer, sir.”

“Tell them,” said Berry warmly, “I’m more than satisfied.”

“Very good, sir. And, if you please, sir, the wine has come.”

“The wine?” said Berry. “What wine?”

The butler moistened his lips.

“I believe it, sir, to be claret. Sixty dozen were delivered this afternoon.”

“Sixty dozen?” screamed Berry. “But who’s been being funny?”

“There you are, sir,” cried Falcon. “I was sure there was some mistake. Again and again I insisted that you would never have ordered—”

“Seven hundred and twenty bottles?”

“And all of them loose, sir. And not a label between them… It took two hours and more to get them into the bins.”

Berry put a hand to his head.

“Stand back,” he faltered. “Stand back and give me air.”

“But where did they come from?” said Daphne.

“From some warehouse in London, madam. I’d have telephoned if I could, but they’re not in the book.”

“Well, it’s their look-out,” said I. “When they render the bill, we can tell them to take it away.”

“That’s all very well,” said Berry. “Supposing I’m right, and somebody is being funny – ordering stuff in our name… We shall know tomorrow morning, but I don’t want five tons of guano and a hundred and fifty bedsteads in weathered oak.”

“For heaven’s sake,” breathed Perdita. “Is that sort of thing ever done?”

“I regret to say,” said Berry, “it sometimes is. The Fairies of Castle Charing met it last year. They spent a week in Paris. When they got home they could hardly get into the drive. Four full-size billiard tables, seventy baby-carriages, over two miles of stair-carpet, eleven kitchen-ranges and twenty tons of the very best fish manure.”

“Let’s shut the gates,” said Daphne, faintly. “If you think there’s the slightest chance—”

“It’s all right, my dear,” said Berry. “They can’t get very far as long as we’re here. I’ll give up Polteney tomorrow and spend the day on the steps.”

In fact, he was spared this penance. At seven o’clock the next morning the men returned for the wine and took it away. The lorries were laden and gone before we were down.

It was Sunday afternoon; and Perdita Boyte and I were sitting at ease on the turf at the head of the well. The others were gone to tea at a neighbouring house.

The orchard was comfortable, breathing the honest leisure of other days. So far from ruffling its calm, the sound of a distant car deposed to its possession of a peace which the world of today cannot give. The silence was rich and golden, laced with the hum of insects and, now and again, with the delicate flutter of wings.

A little shaft of sunlight was thrusting between the leaves to glorify Perdita’s hair. This was uncalled-for. Her beauty was vivid enough. At her feet the Knave lay couched, with his eyes on my face.

My lady opened a mouth which prose could never describe.

“Why does this spot attract you?”

“At the moment,” said I, “I am here because you are here.”

Perdita laid herself back and regarded the sky.

“If I were out of the country, you’d be sitting beside this well.”

“I believe that,” said I, “to be true. But I don’t know why.”

“Try and think,” said Perdita, quietly.

Averting my gaze from the lady, I did as she said. After a little while—

“It’s rather involved,” I said feebly. “First, I’ve always had a weakness for fairy-tales. You know. There was once a youth who set out to seek his fortune. And he met a wise man by the way. And the wise man told him to dig at a certain place and that when he had dug so deep he would discover the treasure that there lay hid… Then, to come back to earth, the treasure itself is perfection – a lively thread of silver, a virgin source, that since the world began rolling has picked its way from the hills… And then again, the well is so very old. It’s figured from the beginning – in the Bible, in Aesop’s Fables, in Virgil and Nursery Rhyme. Men have always digged wells, and the simple ritual’s the same as it was in Abraham’s day. It is a natural labour – rendering unto Nature the things that are hers, for, once the well has been dug, it’s as much a part of Nature as cockcrow itself.”

A bright, brown eye found mine.

“‘Sermons in stones,’” said Perdita, sitting up. “My dear, you’re incorrigible. You’re the finest costumier I know. You could dress up a fried-fish stall or an Epstein bust. And ‘Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’”

“Who eggs me on?” said I. “Who picks over the junk of ages and points to some faded relic I never found lovely before?”

“That’s right. Dress me up, showman.”

“I’m afraid I shall have to undress you – to go with the well. All the best nymphs went bare-legged, with a veil draped into a tunic and one of their shoulders free.”

“Idylls while you wait,” said Perdita. “Go on.”

“I’ve done,” said I. “You’ve got the shape and the skin and the right-sized stars in your eyes: you’ve got the eager air and the mouth which the dawn gets up on purpose to see: your hair would go straight into a shepherd’s song, and as for your fingertips…” I picked them up gently enough. “I’m afraid they’re dangerous. If a god was passing when you waved your hand to a bird, I’m sure he’d come and ask for a drink. You’d have to give it him, of course. In your cupped palms, too. You know, I’m getting quite jealous.”

Perdita began to shake with laughter.

“It’s all very fine to laugh,” I said severely. “There’s the poor shepherd, clean off his feed and dreaming of the lights in your hair, trying to find a rhyme for ‘provocative,’ and all the time you’re giving a god a…drink.”

Perdita lowered her eyes.

“I daresay, if the shepherd asked nicely…”

The Knave, most discreet of sentinels lifted his lovely head – and I saw the servant coming, before he saw us.

He was plainly looking for me, so I raised my voice.

“I’m here, if you want me, William.”

The man came bustling with a salver on which was reposing a card.

Chief Inspector R Wilson

CID

Scotland Yard

I passed it to Perdita, frowning, and got to my feet.

“All right, William,” I said. “Show him into the library.”

“Very good, sir.”

As he left the orchard—

“But this is thrilling,” said Perdita. “What can he want?”

I put out my hands for hers and drew her up to her feet.

“Come and see,” said I. “I’ve not the faintest idea. But I wish the others were here.”

My desire was granted forthwith.

As we left the stable yard, I saw the flash of the Rolls at the mouth of the entrance-drive.

Chief Inspector Wilson compelled respect. If his manner was masterful, his sense of duty stood out, while the way in which he stated his case would have done credit to any barrister.

He addressed himself to Berry, as being the obvious head of the eager court.

“I’m sorry to rush you like this, sir, but before I’m through you’ll see that it isn’t my fault.” He glanced at the six pairs of eyes which were fast on his face. “I mean to speak openly. I’m sure that everyone here will keep what I say to themselves.”

“I promise you that,” said Berry, as a murmur of assurance went round.

The Inspector inclined his head.

“I’ve called to see you,” he said, “about some wine… On Thursday last, I believe, some wine was delivered here…several hundred bottles, whilst you were out for the day.”

“That’s perfectly right,” said Berry. “It was taken away the next morning at eight o’clock.”

“Quite so,” said the Inspector. “Mistakes do sometimes occur. I don’t know if you saw the invoice, but Rouse and Rouse was the name, of Commercial Road.”

My brother-in-law nodded.

“In fact,” said Inspector Wilson, “there’s no such firm. There was – five years ago: that explains the printed bill-head: but there isn’t now.”

We could only stare.

“Please get hold of this,” he continued. “The delivery of that wine was not a mistake… And now may I see the butler?”

In a silence big with emotion, I rose and stepped to the bell…

After perhaps thirty seconds, the butler entered the room.

“Falcon,” said Berry, “Chief Inspector Wilson would like to ask you some questions about that wine.”

“Very good, sir,” said Falcon, wide-eyed.

He turned to Inspector Wilson and moistened his lips.

The other looked up from a bulging pocketbook. “Tell me this, Mr Falcon. How many men brought the wine?”

The butler considered.

“There were five or six,” he said. “I can’t be exactly sure.”

“And how many fetched it away?”

“The same as brought it,” said Falcon. “I think there were six, but there may have been only five.”

“Would you know them again?”

“I think so. Not all, perhaps. You see, my hands were full. The cellar’s not very well lit, and what with counting the bottles and trying to—”

“Is that one?” said the Inspector, producing a photograph.

“That’s right,” said Falcon, at once.

“And that?”

Another photograph passed.

“Yes, that’s another,” said Falcon.

“Thank you,” said the Inspector. “That’s all I want.”

Thus abruptly dismissed, Falcon took his reluctant leave. As the door closed behind him—

“I’d like to see the cellar,” said Wilson, “almost at once. But before you take me down, I’ll tell you what we shall find. That cellar has got an air-hole.”

“That’s perfectly true,” said Berry. “There’s a grating some three feet square – which gives to a slot in the ground like a miniature well.”

“I never knew that,” said Daphne.

“It’s behind the lilacs,” said Berry, “close to the stable yard.” He returned to Inspector Wilson. “If you’re thinking of entry, that grating could never be forced. It can be opened – from within. But I’ll swear it’s never been touched for fifty years.”

“It’s open now,” said the other. “That’s why I’m here.”

The sensation this statement provoked expressed itself in a silence which is commonly coupled with death. The six of us sat spellbound, not seeming to breathe.

After a little, the Inspector continued quietly.

“You remember the butler said there were five or six men. Well, there his memory’s perfect. Six men delivered that wine, and five went away. Five men came for the wine, and six went away. One man was down in that cellar all Thursday night. His job was to open that grating.” He raised his eyebrows and sighed. “It’s been done before.”

“Well, I’m damned,” said Berry, and spoke for us all.

“Now, I’m not a magician,” said Wilson. “I couldn’t tell you all this, if I hadn’t been told. I’ve been told by an informant. I hold no brief for such men, but they earn their bread. This one’s sitting at Cannon Row now, afraid to go out. But that’s by the way. I’ve been after this gang for months, and, by your leave, I’m going to get them tonight.”

“Tonight?” cried everyone.

The Inspector nodded.

“If my informant is right, they’re coming tonight.”

Berry sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

“What do we do?” he said.

The Inspector smiled.

“I suppose it’s asking too much that you should do nothing at all. To be honest, sir, that’s what I’d like. I’ve five men two miles off and I’m going to bring them along as soon as it’s dark. Sit up and watch, if you must – but if I’m to get home tonight, you must give that grating a miss. Try and forget about it – and all that side of the house. You see, that’s the mouth of the trap… My men will be down in the cellar before they come. The door, of course, will be locked, and I’d rather you kept the key.” He jerked his head at the Knave. “You must keep that dog quiet at all costs. I’d like him shut up in some room at the other end of the house.”

“I was just going to say,” said Berry, “it’s going to be more of a matter for ears than eyes. I shall sit by the cellar door and listen in.”

My sister shuddered.

“I shall go to bed early,” she said. “And, as the Inspector asks, I shall try to forget. What do they want, Inspector?”

“Jewels and silver, madam.” He hesitated. “You’ve got some notable bracelets, I understand.”

Daphne covered her eyes.

“I believe every thief in Europe knows about them.”

The Inspector shrugged his shoulders.

“These things get round,” he said shortly, and rose to his feet. “And now may I see the cellars? After that, the outside of the grating: and then if you’d show me a place I can park the cars – just off the road, somewhere, as near the house as you can.” He glanced at his watch. “As I said before, I’m sorry to rush you like this: but it’s only a short six hours since the news came in.”

“You’ve had to shift,” said Berry. “And Sunday, too.”

The other nodded ruefully.

“I was going to the Zoo,” he said simply, “with my little girl.”

Our visit to the cellars confirmed the informant’s report. The grating had been unfastened, and its hinges were thick with grease. I swung it open myself without any sound.

Half an hour later we bade the Inspector goodbye…till the following day.

With a foot on the step of his car, he spoke his last word.

“You won’t forget that dog, sir? If he were to go and give tongue…”

He broke off and shrugged his shoulders.

The Knave looked him full in the eyes and lifted his lip.

An hour had gone by, and Perdita, Berry and I were strolling beside the sunk fence, discussing the enterprise of the house-breaker of today.

“I confess,” said my brother-in-law, “to a certain admiration for those about to be jugged. Sixty dozen of claret would gammon a herd of bloodhounds, let alone honest men.”

“The very three that I wanted,” said Jonah’s voice. “Daphne’s too nervous, and it wouldn’t be good for Jill,” and with that, he took my arm and fell into step.

“I wish to God,” said Berry, “you wouldn’t do things like that. Coming up from behind without warning. I’m ready to scream if anyone blows his nose.”

My cousin ignored the protest.

“Keep on walking, please, and listen to me. I’ve been on to the Assistant Commissioner – at his private house. I wanted to ask about Wilson… He says he’s an excellent man – but he happens to be in Paris. No doubt at all about that. They had a talk this morning over the telephone.”

“Good God,” said Berry, weakly, and Perdita gripped my arm.

Jonah continued firmly.

“We have just received an impostor. Be sure of that. A wolf in sheepdog’s clothing – paving his way. He’s coming tonight all right, but he and his men are the gang.”

I put a hand to my head.

“But why – I don’t understand…”

“It is confusing,” said Jonah, “but I think I can give you a lead. Wasn’t it Thursday night that the Knave barked twice?”

“Of course,” I cried. “I’d forgotten. I got up and went downstairs.”

“That’s right,” said Jonah. “I heard you. We were both of us half asleep. The Knave must have heard the fellow at work on the grating below. But, what is much more to the point, the fellow at work heard the Knave. Next day he says to his pals, ‘The grating’s open all right, but the dog’s going to give us away.’ So ‘Wilson’ comes down – under orders to clear the coast. I must say he did it well. Not only the dog but all of us out of the way. And simply by telling a tale the truth of which we could confirm. It’s ‘the confidence trick’ once again, in a different guise.”

My cousin’s brilliant deduction left me dumb.

“I give you best,” said Berry. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” said Jonah, frankly. “But one thing he said made me think. I’d rather you kept the key – of the cellar door. To me, those words rang false. They didn’t seem to belong to Scotland Yard.” He broke off there, to look at the western sky. “It won’t be dark for two hours, and I’ve half a plan in my head. I wish we could cut dinner out, but I don’t want Jill or Daphne to get ideas. And this is where you come in. It’s up to you to get them out of the way – women and children upstairs by a quarter to ten.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Perdita.

“I didn’t say ‘maidens’,” said Jonah. “I hope you’ll come in on this. I was going to ask you if you’d take charge of the Knave. And now I must go. If I’m late for dinner, don’t wait. I’ll tell you all I’ve arranged at a quarter to ten. Meanwhile please do your best to find the answer to this? What is ‘Wilson’ after? I’d give a good deal to know.”

“Jewels and silver,” I said. “He told us himself.”

“And warned us,” said Jonah, swiftly. “Asked us to keep the key of the cellar door… I don’t think that answer’s right.”

“It’s a ruse,” said Berry, and wiped the sweat from his face. “They mean to come in all right, but not by the cellar at all.”

“I don’t think that’s right,” said my cousin. “If they don’t mean to use the grating, why did Wilson request that the dog should be put on the other side of the house?”

Perdita put in her oar.

“But if both those answers are bad, you get a third which is worse – that what they want’s in the cellar.”

“Which is absurd,” said Jonah. “I quite agree. Burglars like their liquor as much as anyone else, but they don’t go to lengths like these for a little Napoleon brandy and six or seven dozen of pink champagne. Never mind. Think it over. We ought to be able, between us, to do the sum.”

With that, he was gone.

We watched him reach the terrace and enter the house.

“I’m quite sorry for ‘Wilson’,” said Berry. “He’s going to get the shock of his life. When Jonah takes off his coat it’s time to go home.”

This was most true.

My cousin, Jonathan Mansel, is a man of action as swift and, if need be, as deadly as any machine gun that ever was brought into play.

A track runs into a wood which rises beside our meadows a short three hundred yards from the orchard gate. From my perch on the bough of an oak commanding the track I could, by day, have seen the roof of the stables against the blue of the sky. But it was no longer day. Night had fallen some twenty-five minutes ago.

My orders were clear. To signal ‘Wilson’s’ arrival: to signal the strength of his gang: to signal whether or no the cars were left unattended when ‘Wilson’ set out for the house. All this, of course, with my torch. If the cars were left to themselves, Perdita and the Knave would join me, to watch while I opened the bonnets and cut the high-tension leads. And then we were to join Berry, who was lying within the orchard, close to the well. As for Jonah…

And there I heard the pulse of an engine.

A car – two cars had slowed down, on the road at the mouth of the track.

After, perhaps, thirty seconds I heard them begin to back…

Then I saw the glow of a tail-light – and made my report.

Two men were already afoot. Not till both cars had stopped did the others alight. Six in all I counted, and sent my news.

Things of some sort were taken out of the cars, but the lights were out now and I could not see what they were. The engines, of course, had been stopped, and since no words were spoken, the dark figures moving in darkness were worse than sinister. I saw them cluster below me, just clear of the leading car.

And then one opened his mouth – and I nearly fell out of my tree…

It was not ‘Wilson’ who spoke, but another, whose voice I knew.

As in a dream, I heard him issue some orders and tell off some man, called Jennet, to stay with the cars. His tone was as bitter as ever, his manner of speaking as short, and when he had done and was gone, I was not at all surprised when Jennet described him in terms which I dare not set down.

It was the diviner, indeed.

Bad masters make bad servants, and though, of course, I dared not lay hands on the cars, I was able to beat a retreat without any fuss, for Jennet, instead of patrolling, as he had been ordered to do, took his seat on one of the steps and lighted a cigarette.

I entered the meadows and followed the paling along. After perhaps forty paces, the Knave loomed out of the shadows, to put his paws on my chest.

“No luck?” breathed Perdita Boyte.

“Not at the moment,” said I, and told her my news.

“Oh, my dear,” twittered Perdita, “what does it mean?”

“I’m damned if I know,” said I. “Can’t you work it out?”

“I can make it rather harder by telling you this. D’you remember I asked you a question this afternoon? Why does this spot attract you? We were sitting by the head of the well… You gave me – so pretty an answer that I forgot altogether to give you mine.” I found a small hand and held it close to my heart. “You see, Boy, it’s not only you. That spot attracts us all. Ever since he told you to dig there – after all I’m only a guest, but it’s never been out of my mind.”

“Well, why’s that?” said I, feebly.

The small hand caught hold of my coat.

“Call me a fool, if you like, but I think it’s because that man’s willed us…been willing us ever since Monday to think of that well. That he’s got one strange power we know. Well, I think he’s got another. And I think he’s been using that to keep our minds on that well.”

“But why should he do so, my beauty?”

The hand slipped away and up to the troubled temples which I could hardly see.

“I can’t imagine,” wailed Perdita. “And there you are. I told you I’d make it worse. But now that he’s back here – in charge…”

“Let’s go and put it to Berry. I must get in touch with Jonah about those cars.”

Jonah and Berry were sitting on a log in the orchard, conversing in even tones.

“Come and sit down,” said the former. “Our friends are deeply engaged. The cellar was their objective, as ‘Wilson’ said. They seem to be taking the floor up: and as flags are not like linoleum, we’ve plenty of time. Then again the work would go faster if they weren’t so painfully anxious to make no noise.”

“Did you recognize their leader?” said I.

“‘Wilson’ was the first of the string.”

“He’s not in command.”

“Who then?”

“Our friend, the dowser,” said I. “There’s no mistaking his voice.”

“Go on,” said Berry, incredulously.

“I am ready,” said Jonah, quietly, “to believe anything. Understanding’s another matter. I frankly admit I’m a long way out of my depth. But very soon now we shall know. They may as well get the stuff out – whatever it is.”

“Perdita says—”

“Stop,” hissed Berry. “Stop. I’ve got an idea. When he showed us rods, that wallah…and one of them moved. In the library, Boy, that morning. He asked what was underneath, and you said the cellars were dry.”

“Of course,” I heard myself saying. “Of course…of course.”

I remembered perfectly – now. But I had forgotten the matter, as though it had never been.

Jonah was speaking.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

Berry told him, from first to last.

“All the same,” he concluded, “it only explains his presence – the dowser’s, I mean. We want to know what he’s after. And he’s not come here to uncover some secret spring.”

“What does Perdita think?” said Jonah.

Perdita tried in vain to steady her voice.

“It all f-fits in,” she stammered. “He made them forget that bit in the library. And he tried to make them forget by keeping their minds on the well – all our minds, in case they’d told us…”

“I’ve no doubt you’re right,” said Jonah. “This dowser’s no ordinary man.”

“What on earth d’you mean?” said Berry.

“This,” said Jonah. “Water is not all that a really good dowser can find. He can detect the presence of minerals – under the earth. Gold and silver, for instance…” I found myself trembling with excitement. “When you saw his rod move that morning, you thought there was water below: but the dowser knew better: he knew there was precious metal down in the cellars beneath…he came Thursday night, to make sure – to find the exact place and the depth…and tonight he’s come to take his findings away.”

An hour and a half crept by.

Perdita, Berry and I sat upon the log in the orchard, conversing by fits and starts but always with bated breath, while the Knave stood beside us like a statue, conscious of the presence of evil which for some strange reason he was not allowed to declare.

About his business, Jonah moved to and fro, visiting the servants he had posted, reporting progress to us or listening himself to the sounds which rose from the cellar’s depths.

Jennet had been ‘disposed of’ and was sitting, gagged and bound, in one of the cars. These had not been disabled – my cousin had changed his plan.

An hour and a half.

Time seemed to be standing still: excitement begot an impatience which sent us half out of our minds: desire rebelled against reason again and again.

“Lifting flagstones,” moaned Berry. “They don’t know how to work. I’d have moved a mountain by now. And I know I’d sell my soul to be doing the labour myself.”

Perdita put it in a nutshell.

“It’s like when you’ve been given a present – and somebody else unpacks it: and you have to watch them fumbling, undoing the string.”

“I know,” said Jonah, “I know. But when six desperate men play into your hands, it’s very much better to let them. The great idea is to avoid unpleasantness.”

“I hardly think,” said Berry, “that ‘the great idea’ will mature. I mean, I can’t help feeling that on their way back to Town, no one of the six will really be at his best.”

With his words came the flash of a torch.

“They’re off,” said Jonah. “Still as death, if you please, until I come back.”

I went down on one knee. With my arm about the Knave’s shoulders, I held his head to my chest. After, perhaps, two minutes I felt his ears twitch…

And then I heard the men passing – two men, breathing hard as they went, as men who are anxious to hasten, while carrying weight.

Another two minutes went by.

And then, well out in the meadows, a light leaped up.

I saw figures moving against it, and one was standing still with his hands in the air…

“Oh, I’m sorry for them,” said Perdita, and burst into tears.

I gave the Knave to Berry and picked her up in my arms.

“Rough justice,” I whispered. “Not fit for a maiden’s eyes. When Jonah comes back, I’m going to take you to bed.”

“Couldn’t you…give them…just something? I mean…poor men.”

For the first time for seven days my brain seemed to leap to life.

“If they’ve found what I think they have, I’ll give them five hundred pounds.”

“Oh, you darling,” breathed Perdita. A warm arm slid round my neck. “What – what do you think they’ve found?”

“Darlings to you.” I kissed her. “The Abbey plate.”

And that is very nearly the end of my tale.

A glance at the first-fruits showed that my conjecture was good: the plate had been buried, and lest it should be disinterred, the nuns had spread the report that it had been taken to France.

I took Perdita back to the house and wrote out a cheque. Then I returned to the orchard, where Berry was sitting in darkness, addressing the Knave.

“From your point of view, old fellow, it’s been an utter wash-out from first to last. No hue, no cry, no dust-up, no biters bit. And what have we got to show for it? A lot of rotten utensils which we shall never use. Look at that alms-dish, for instance. No self-respecting dog would drink out of that. What if it is solid gold? You’d very much rather it was enamelled steel…

“What’s happened?” I said.

“History,” said Berry, “has just repeated itself. Two more left the cellar, laden, and were relieved of their booty in the midst of yon dewy meads. There’s only the dowser left now. When the others fail to return, I suppose he’ll emerge.”

“Who’s in charge of the cars?”

“Fitch and Carson,” said Berry. “They’re going to deport the wicked as soon as Satan arrives. To Break Heart Heath, I believe – an appropriate spot. Jonah will follow and bring them home in the Rolls. He’s really a perfect producer… I wish we could show a light. There’s a monstrance here with a ruby as big as an eye. It can’t be real, can it?”

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” said I, and ran for the cars…

‘Chief Inspector Wilson’ stared at the cheque.

Pay Mr Jennet or Order

Five hundred pounds.

“Is this a have?” he demanded.

“No,” said I, “it’s a present – from a very charming lady. You’ve done us extremely well, and she didn’t like the idea of your going empty away.” I showed it to each of the others: then I returned to ‘Wilson,’ folded it up and slipped it into his pocket and out of sight. “There are five of you here,” I said, “and, as you saw, it’s made out for five hundred pounds. In a way, the inference is obvious. On the other hand, there’s your leader – he’ll soon be here. I haven’t spoken to him, and I’ll leave it to you to decide how much he should have.”

The five replied as one man. So far as I heard, each put it a different way, but each spoke straight from the heart – with a steady, blasphemous vigour that did me good. I have no wish to seem harsh, but we had done the dowser no ill, while he had abused his position with all his might.

I did not watch his translation…

At three o’clock that morning we stood in the dining-room. Windows and doors were fast, and the lights were full on. The table was crowded – crammed with the Abbey plate. Chalices, platters and flagons – sacred vessels and caskets for which I can find no name…there was not one of silver, but all were of gold.

But the beauty was not all to the board.

On my right stood Daphne, her glorious hair unbound, turning her jade-green dressing-gown into some goddess’ robe: Jill stood between Berry and Jonah on the opposite side of the oak – a King’s daughter in blue and silver, with her pretty hands in her pockets, appraising her father’s hoard. On my right stood Perdita Boyte, swathed to the throat in old rose, a nymph awaiting her call – to meet the dayspring upon some mountain lawn. Curious in spite of himself, the Knave moved about the table, nosing the fusty collection we seemed so much to revere.

“All these years,” murmured Daphne, “and nobody knew.”

“What ever,” said Berry, “what ever will Christie’s say?”

“You’re not going to sell it?” cried Jill.

“Yes, we are, sweetheart,” said Jonah: “in self-defence.”

Perdita breathed in my ear.

“Did they seem comforted, Boy?”

“Stopped crying at once,” I whispered. “If their hands had been free, they’d have put their arms round my neck.”

“Oh, I didn’t” – indignantly.

I tucked her arm under mine.

“I know,” said I. “Neither did I.”