outside.”
“Thanks,” said the Saint. “I won’t. And it might save you a longish walk and a lot of trouble if I told you that Orace and I sleep in watches, turn and turn about, so that any of your pals who call round in the hope of being able to catch us dapping will have to be very fly. … S’long!”
He vanished into the darkness like a wraith, almost before the men in the library could have realized that he was gone. He went scraping through the shrubbery again to the wall, got his coat over the top as before, and was over like a cat.
He dropped lightly to the ground, pulled on the tattered coat, and struck off away from the wall after no more than a couple of seconds’ pause to listen and scan the blackness in every direction. Guided by an innate bump of locality, he established his bearings at once and set off on a wide detour -that would bring him eventually into the grounds at the back of the Manor. He advanced in short rushes, stopping and crouching in cover every twenty yards or so, straining eyes and ears for sign of stalkers behind or an ambush before. Nothing happened. The night was quiet and peaceful.
He saw a light go on in an upper window of Bittle’s house, and the distant hiss of the surf mingled with the rustle of grasses brushed by the breeze, but there was neither sight nor sound of any human being.
“Damned odd!” said Templar to himself, scratching his head, as he lay under a hedge, watching and listening like a frontiersman, after at least a dozen of these rushes. “Flaming odd! Or did I slip them by going over the wall?”
He had fully expected to find some spicy parting gift waiting for him as soon as he had got far enough away from Bittle’s vicinity, when they would be hoping to take him off his guard, but nothing had interfered with his departure, and there had been no trace of even the feeblest attempt to create trouble for him when he arrived in the narrow lane that ran between the Manor and Carn’s house. ‘ .
“Hell!” said the Saint, almost indignantly. “Now, why in blazes did they want to let me go?”
He had seen no lights in any of the Manor windows, and with a sudden apprehension he looked at the luminous dial of his watch. He was already a couple of minutes overdue. He swung round and sprinted up the path to Carn’s cottage. The Saint literally fell on the bell.
Chapter VII
THE FUN CONTINUES
It was only a moment before Carn opened the door. Simon could have fallen on the detective’s neck when he saw that Carn’s features registered nothing more than a faint surprise, but he concealed his joy and assumed the slightly mocking smile that went with his Saintly pose.
“Thought I’d find you up,” murmured the Saint. “Mind if I split a small lemonade with you?”
He had sidled past Carn into the miniature hall before the detective could answer, and Carn closed the front door resignedly.
“I didn’t expect to be honoured again so soon, Mr. Templar,” said the detective. “As a matter of fact, I’ve a visitor with me….”
The last sentence was uttered in a tone that was intended to convey a gentle hint, as man of the world to man of the world, that the Saint should pause and consult his host before making himself at home, but the Saint had opened the door of the study before the detective had finished speaking.
“Why, it’s Miss Holm!” exclaimed the Saint. “Fancy meeting you!” He turned to Carn, who was reddening silently on the threshold. “I hope I’m not interrupting a consultation, Doc? Throw me out of the window if I cramp your style, won’t you? I mean, people never stand on ceremony with me. …”
“As a matter of fact,” said Carn, on the defensive, “Miss Holm simply came round for a chat.”
“No? Really?” said the Saint.
“Yes!” returned Carn loudly.
“Well, well!” said Simon, who was enjoying himself hugely. “And how are we. Miss Holm?”
He was wondering just how much she had told Carn, and she read
“Thanks,” said the Saint. “I won’t. And it might save you a longish walk and a lot of trouble if I told you that Orace and I sleep in watches, turn and turn about, so that any of your pals who call round in the hope of being able to catch us dapping will have to be very fly. … S’long!”
He vanished into the darkness like a wraith, almost before the men in the library could have realized that he was gone. He went scraping through the shrubbery again to the wall, got his coat over the top as before, and was over like a cat.
He dropped lightly to the ground, pulled on the tattered coat, and struck off away from the wall after no more than a couple of seconds’ pause to listen and scan the blackness in every direction. Guided by an innate bump of locality, he established his bearings at once and set off on a wide detour -that would bring him eventually into the grounds at the back of the Manor. He advanced in short rushes, stopping and crouching in cover every twenty yards or so, straining eyes and ears for sign of stalkers behind or an ambush before. Nothing happened. The night was quiet and peaceful.
He saw a light go on in an upper window of Bittle’s house, and the distant hiss of the surf mingled with the rustle of grasses brushed by the breeze, but there was neither sight nor sound of any human being.
“Damned odd!” said Templar to himself, scratching his head, as he lay under a hedge, watching and listening like a frontiersman, after at least a dozen of these rushes. “Flaming odd! Or did I slip them by going over the wall?”
He had fully expected to find some spicy parting gift waiting for him as soon as he had got far enough away from Bittle’s vicinity, when they would be hoping to take him off his guard, but nothing had interfered with his departure, and there had been no trace of even the feeblest attempt to create trouble for him when he arrived in the narrow lane that ran between the Manor and Carn’s house. ‘ .
“Hell!” said the Saint, almost indignantly. “Now, why in blazes did they want to let me go?”
He had seen no lights in any of the Manor windows, and with a sudden apprehension he looked at the luminous dial of his watch. He was already a couple of minutes overdue. He swung round and sprinted up the path to Carn’s cottage. The Saint literally fell on the bell.
Chapter VII
THE FUN CONTINUES
It was only a moment before Carn opened the door. Simon could have fallen on the detective’s neck when he saw that Carn’s features registered nothing more than a faint surprise, but he concealed his joy and assumed the slightly mocking smile that went with his Saintly pose.
“Thought I’d find you up,” murmured the Saint. “Mind if I split a small lemonade with you?”
He had sidled past Carn into the miniature hall before the detective could answer, and Carn closed the front door resignedly.
“I didn’t expect to be honoured again so soon, Mr. Templar,” said the detective. “As a matter of fact, I’ve a visitor with me….”
The last sentence was uttered in a tone that was intended to convey a gentle hint, as man of the world to man of the world, that the Saint should pause and consult his host before making himself at home, but the Saint had opened the door of the study before the detective had finished speaking.
“Why, it’s Miss Holm!” exclaimed the Saint. “Fancy meeting you!” He turned to Carn, who was reddening silently on the threshold. “I hope I’m not interrupting a consultation, Doc? Throw me out of the window if I cramp your style, won’t you? I mean, people never stand on ceremony with me. …”
“As a matter of fact,” said Carn, on the defensive, “Miss Holm simply came round for a chat.”
“No? Really?” said the Saint.
“Yes!” returned Carn loudly.
“Well, well!” said Simon, who was enjoying himself hugely. “And how are we. Miss Holm?”
He was wondering just how much she had told Carn, and she read
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