"Is it necessary to light that?" he asked.
"Why not? There's a bad bit of road at the bottom there."
"I find the glare of a lamp like that always makes it worse. What is
it, acetylene?"
He bent over the lantern to examine it, and in the pause the match
burned down and went out. I felt for the box again in my pocket, and
as I did so Lessing let go his hold on the bicycle. The machine
slipped by its weight, and reaching quickly to catch it I heard the
unmistakable sound of escaping air.
"Now you've done it!" cried Lessing boyishly.
"Damn!" I groped for the rear tire. It was flat. "Here's a
cheerful business. How the dickens----"
Lessing laughed. "We'll have to walk it now! Never mind. I know
the road."
"I'm not going to bring you all that way," I said. "I shall be all
right."
"Nonsense! I like a walk before I turn in."
He took hold of the bicycle on one side, I on the other, and together
we set off to walk down the hill. There is an exhilaration in
walking through woods at night, even tempered by the necessity of
pushing a heavy motor-cycle before you, and my brief annoyance at the
accident rapidly vanished. Lessing was boyishly high-spirited;
between us we made a fairly rowdy trip of it. We had just finished
the ascent of the other side of the hollow when he laid a sudden hand
on my arm.
"Did you hear anything?"
"No. Why?"
I thought he was still joking, but his cloak of nonsense had dropped
from him abruptly. He pulled me to the side of the road.
"Listen!"
There seemed nothing to listen for. I waited, rather impatiently.
Lessing threw back his head, scanning the line of the trees that shut
us in. "There!"
It was still in my mind that he was trying to play some game on me.
"It's nothing but a bird," I said.
"Bird? You heard nothing else?"
"No."
"Come on," Lessing said. He seemed abruptly sobered, and I fancied
he was at pains to quicken our pace over the remaining stretch of
road. When we sighted the glimmer of the orchard palings I pulled up.
"Come on into the house and have a drink," I said.
"No, thanks. I must get back. By the way, do you carry a revolver?"
"What on earth for?"
"I only wondered. I should advise you to, around here." His hand
slipped down to his pocket, and I heard a soft click.
"What are you going to do?"
"Have a pot at the birds, going back." He smiled. "Good night.
Look in sometime during the week."
And he went off without further delay, whistling softly.