Mysterious Aviator by Nevil Shute

end of a black silk ribbon. Thisevening he was evidently tired, and seemed in some way to have grown smaller and older. Things must have been going very badly up in Town that day. He spoke very little. There was some understanding between him and his guest; both were preoccupied, though Dermott was talking rather at random to Lady Arner. Clearly there was business to be done, and both of them were only waiting till the ladies had left the room.
    That happened at last. I got up to open the door for them to pass out, and closed it softly behind them. Sanders placed the port convenient to Lord Arner, and disappeared into the gloom. I came back to the table and sat down.
    Arner motioned us to the cigars, but did not take one himself immediately. Instead he leaned a little forward with his elbows on the table and put both hands to his forehead, raising his head and drawing his hands down his face till he was staring straight ahead of him again. I knew that motion.
    I took a cigar. “Things bad in Town, sir?”
    He dropped his hands on to the table. “Middling,” he said rustically. “Middling. Remind me to order the
Studio
for Curzon Street, Moran.”
    I nodded. “I’ll see about it to-morrow,” I replied.
    I knew what he meant by that. He had in the library at Under all the bound volumes of the
Studio
since the beginning. When he was worried or upset over anything he used to go in there and sit down beside the fire, and turn these volumes over slowly. When he came to a picture that he liked he would sit staring at it for a long time without moving. He liked water-colour reproductions best, I think, and especially garden sketches, water-colours of herbaceous borders, and paintings with delicate, bright colours. Sometimes he would pass the heavy volume across to me when he had found a drawing that he particularly admired.
    He roused himself. “Look here, Moran,” he said. “I’ve brought Wing-Commander Dermott down from London to have a talk with you. He’s in the Intelligence Service of the Royal Air Force.”
    He dropped his head into his hands again. “You know thetrouble with Russia,” he said wearily. “It’s been going on for years now—been brewing for the last eighteen months. I had a long talk with Faulkner to-day. Well, it’s come to a head at last, I think. When we must force the issue. There was a Cabinet all yesterday afternoon, and again this morning. There’s been an espionage at Portsmouth. That’s what Dermott’s come down about. And we think it’s them….”
    He stared at the decanter. “If that should be established, it might prove to be the deciding factor. The least thing can swing the balance now. This thing has been done by an aeroplane. Dermott will tell you about that. I was sent for this afternoon to the Air Ministry. They are of the opinion that one of the aeroplanes engaged in this espionage was brought down on Thursday night. They think it landed in this part of the country. They’ve named an area. In the square formed by Pithurst, Leventer, Courton Down, and Under.”
    “That’s all our land,” I said quietly.
    He turned to me. “I know. That’s what I want you to consult with Dermott about. This thing’s too delicate to be handled by the local constable. But you know the country and the people better than I do myself. Much better than the police. You know every hedge and field on the estate, and you know the tenants. I told them at the Ministry that if an aeroplane had landed on my ground and they wanted to find out about it quietly, you were the man to see. I told them I’d bring Dermott down with me, and he could have a talk with you.”
    He turned to Dermott. “You’ll want to go over the ground to-morrow, I suppose?”
    “I shall be able to say more about that when I’ve had a talk with Mr. Moran, Lord Arner.”
    Arner nodded wearily. “You’d better carry on straight ahead. Moran is completely in my confidence. You can speak plainly to him.”
    I shifted