youth, the possessor of spots, a floppy red neck-tie, and green corduroy trousers. From his stammering adolescent embarrassment they got no information whatever.
“Well, we seem to have lost her,” said Cadogan. “What about some lunch?” He hated missing meals.
“Of course, it may be another instance of the most obvious place,” Fen answered, ignoring this summons to the flesh-pots. “That is, the chapel. Let’s go back there.”
“Some lunch would be very nice.”
“Damn it, she can’t have got far. Come on, and stop moaning like an animal about your food. It’s disgusting.”
So they returned to the chapel. In it, nothing and nobody. Nor yet in the vestry. From the vestry there runs a passage wholly cut off from the light, which leads into a sort of paved hall where one or two of the Fellows of the college have rooms. There is a switch, but no one can ever find it, and no one ever bothers to put it on. It was rather incautiously that Fen and Cadogan entered this brief black gully. Too late, when he felt an arm clamped about his waist from behind like a steel vice, when he heard a sudden muffled exclamation from Fen, did Cadogan remember Scylla and Charybdis. Those unimportant decorations of their pursuit had suddenly burst through the haze of facetious comment into a dangerous actuality. On the two branches of Cadogan’s carotid artery, running beneath the ears, a thumb and forefinger were powerfully and expertly pressed. He tried to cry out, and failed. In the few moments which elapsed before he lost consciousness, he was aware of a faint, a ridiculously faint scuffling beside him. Twisting his head from side to side, in a vain attempt to escape that angry grip, his eyes darkened.
6. The Episode of the Worthy Carman
“Fen Steps In,” said Fen. “The Return of Fen. A Don Dares Death (A Gervase Fen Story).”
Cadogan moaned and opened his eyes. He was surprised to find that this action made no difference to his vision at all, except that a pattern of green and purple stars disappeared and was replaced by one of orange golf-balls. The background was as black as ever. He closed his eyes, so that the golf-balls were banished and the stars reinstated, and moaned again, rather more self-consciously this time. Beside him Fen’s voice droned on. He became painfully aware of his physical body, bit by bit; he experimented with moving parts of it, but did not get very far with this, as his hands and feet were tied. Then he shook his head and felt suddenly much better. Moreover, he had not, as he initially suspected, been struck blind; over to his left there showed a thin line of white light.
“Murder Stalks the University,” said Fen. “The Blood on the Mortarboard. Fen Strikes Back.”
“What’s that you’re saying?” Cadogan asked in a faint, rather gurgling voice.
“My dear fellow, are you all right? I was making up titles for Crispin.”
“Where are we?”
“I think we’re in the cupboard at the end of the passage where they attacked us. I’m an idiot not to have taken more care. Are you tied up?”
“Yes.”
“So am I. But it must have been rather a hurried job, and it ought to be easy enough to get loose.”
“All right, Houdini, get on with it.”
“Very well,” said Fen, pained. “You think of some way of getting us out of here.”
“Make a noise. Shout.”
“I’ve made every sort of noise. The trouble is, there’s seldom anyone about here, particularly at lunch-time. Wilkes and Burrows have rooms outside, but Wilkes is deaf and Burrows is always gadding about in London. We shall simply have to wait until someone comes. This part of the college is too isolated for any noise to be heard elsewhere.”
“All the same, I think we ought to try.”
“How tiresome you are… Well, what shall we do?”
“We ought to shout, ‘Help’, oughtn’t we? And batter our feet on the door.”
“Very well, only be careful you don’t kick me.”
They banged and shouted for
“Well, we seem to have lost her,” said Cadogan. “What about some lunch?” He hated missing meals.
“Of course, it may be another instance of the most obvious place,” Fen answered, ignoring this summons to the flesh-pots. “That is, the chapel. Let’s go back there.”
“Some lunch would be very nice.”
“Damn it, she can’t have got far. Come on, and stop moaning like an animal about your food. It’s disgusting.”
So they returned to the chapel. In it, nothing and nobody. Nor yet in the vestry. From the vestry there runs a passage wholly cut off from the light, which leads into a sort of paved hall where one or two of the Fellows of the college have rooms. There is a switch, but no one can ever find it, and no one ever bothers to put it on. It was rather incautiously that Fen and Cadogan entered this brief black gully. Too late, when he felt an arm clamped about his waist from behind like a steel vice, when he heard a sudden muffled exclamation from Fen, did Cadogan remember Scylla and Charybdis. Those unimportant decorations of their pursuit had suddenly burst through the haze of facetious comment into a dangerous actuality. On the two branches of Cadogan’s carotid artery, running beneath the ears, a thumb and forefinger were powerfully and expertly pressed. He tried to cry out, and failed. In the few moments which elapsed before he lost consciousness, he was aware of a faint, a ridiculously faint scuffling beside him. Twisting his head from side to side, in a vain attempt to escape that angry grip, his eyes darkened.
6. The Episode of the Worthy Carman
“Fen Steps In,” said Fen. “The Return of Fen. A Don Dares Death (A Gervase Fen Story).”
Cadogan moaned and opened his eyes. He was surprised to find that this action made no difference to his vision at all, except that a pattern of green and purple stars disappeared and was replaced by one of orange golf-balls. The background was as black as ever. He closed his eyes, so that the golf-balls were banished and the stars reinstated, and moaned again, rather more self-consciously this time. Beside him Fen’s voice droned on. He became painfully aware of his physical body, bit by bit; he experimented with moving parts of it, but did not get very far with this, as his hands and feet were tied. Then he shook his head and felt suddenly much better. Moreover, he had not, as he initially suspected, been struck blind; over to his left there showed a thin line of white light.
“Murder Stalks the University,” said Fen. “The Blood on the Mortarboard. Fen Strikes Back.”
“What’s that you’re saying?” Cadogan asked in a faint, rather gurgling voice.
“My dear fellow, are you all right? I was making up titles for Crispin.”
“Where are we?”
“I think we’re in the cupboard at the end of the passage where they attacked us. I’m an idiot not to have taken more care. Are you tied up?”
“Yes.”
“So am I. But it must have been rather a hurried job, and it ought to be easy enough to get loose.”
“All right, Houdini, get on with it.”
“Very well,” said Fen, pained. “You think of some way of getting us out of here.”
“Make a noise. Shout.”
“I’ve made every sort of noise. The trouble is, there’s seldom anyone about here, particularly at lunch-time. Wilkes and Burrows have rooms outside, but Wilkes is deaf and Burrows is always gadding about in London. We shall simply have to wait until someone comes. This part of the college is too isolated for any noise to be heard elsewhere.”
“All the same, I think we ought to try.”
“How tiresome you are… Well, what shall we do?”
“We ought to shout, ‘Help’, oughtn’t we? And batter our feet on the door.”
“Very well, only be careful you don’t kick me.”
They banged and shouted for
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