It was in circumstances such as these that the late Mr. Sherlock
Holmes always aroused my keenest admiration. No matter how puzzling
the situation might be, he invariably knew what was the right line to
take and exactly how to set about it. I suppose he must have been
blessed with some inner sense which is denied to lesser mortals, for
I know that in my own case no sudden inspiration came to help me. I
just stood there gazing at the inscription with a kind of vague
satisfaction, and wondering what the devil I ought to do next.
All my instincts prompted me to action, but the question was, What
sort of action was the most advisable? I could not very well march
up to the front door and hand in my card, much as I should have
enjoyed making the experiment. There was Christine to be considered
as well as myself; indeed, the feeling that whatever I did I must
bring no suspicion upon her was the one predominant thought at the
back of my mind.
From where I was standing I could see nothing of the house. The
drive curved away sharply round a huge dump of laurels, and the whole
place looked even more untidy and overgrown than my own property. If
I chose I had only to push open the gate and walk in, and yet, with
my hand actually on the latch, I still hesitated. Somehow or other
it seemed altogether too easy. The vision of a mouse strolling
unconcernedly into an open trap rose up before me with unpleasant
distinctness, and, abandoning the idea, I stepped back again on to
the grass.
It struck me that another and less public mode of entrance would be
more in keeping with my part. The paling was only about five feet
high, and offered little or no obstacle to anyone as active as
myself. I could slip over quietly, just where the trees were
thickest, and, unless the whole thing collapsed beneath me, the odds
were that my ungentlemanly intrusion would probably pass unnoticed.
I was in the very act of turning away to put this notion into
practice when a sudden sound from inside brought me up as stiff as a
ramrod. It was the unmistakable noise of an opening door, followed
almost immediately by the voice of a man speaking and the crunch of
footsteps coming down the drive.
Thanks chiefly to my sea training, I managed to keep my head. One
glance round showed me that the only available hiding-place was the
thick hedge on the opposite side of the road. I made for it like a
rabbit, and the next moment I had forced my way through, and was
crouching down, scratched and panting, behind a welcome barrier of
blackberry bushes.
As luck would have it, I could not have pitched upon a better spot.
I was quite invisible myself, and through a small gap in the hedge it
was just possible to command a glimpse of the gate. I found that by
pushing aside some leaves I was able to enlarge the view still
further, and with my eyes glued to this peep-hole I waited
breathlessly for the next development.
It was not long in coming. A couple of seconds could hardly have
passed when the gate swung open and two figures stepped out into the
roadway. For a moment I stared at them both, hardly able to believe
my eyes. One was Christine, and the other--of all people in the
world--was Dr. Manning.
To say that I was knocked all of a heap would be as near as I can get
to describing my sensations. I had thought of a good many things,
but the possibility of Christine and the doctor being acquainted had
never so much as crossed my mind. I could only gaze at them in a
sort of incredulous amazement, while all the theories that I had
previously built up seemed to be tumbling about like a pack of cards.
It was Manning's voice which collected my scattered wits for me.
"I will come round to-morrow about half-past ten," he said "You
needn't be the least worried though. Everything's going as well as
it possibly can."
Christine held out her hand. "I am not anxious now," she said
simply. "Good-bye, and thank you very much."
He looked down at her in a way that filled me with a sudden and
peculiar resentment.
"Don't go in for a minute," he said. "Come as far as the end of the
road with me. I want to show you how to get to the barge in case you
ever honour me with a visit."
I saw Christine hesitate; then, as if anxious not to appear
unfriendly, she made a little gesture of assent.
"Oh, very well," she said, smiling. "But I mustn't be long. My
uncle will be wondering what has become of me."
Manning glanced at her again with an expression that made me long to
kick him, and, moving away from where I could see them, they strolled
off together up the road.
For a moment or two I remained quite still. Then with extreme care I
got up from my crouching position, and peered over the top of the
hedge in the direction which they had taken. There was not much
danger of their spotting me, and even if there had been I don't
suppose I could have resisted the temptation.
I watched them until they reached the corner, where I saw Christine
come to a standstill, as though she had suddenly decided not to go
any farther. From his gestures Manning appeared to be making some
sort of remonstrance, but if this were the case his arguments
evidently had no effect. At all events, he seemed finally to abandon
his attempts at persuading her, and they crossed the road together
towards a spot just beyond the palings, which overlooked the water.
They stood there for several minutes, Manning pointing away up the
estuary and apparently showing her the best method of reaching the
barge. It must have been a complicated route, judging from the time
he took about it, and the longer I waited the more impatient and
resentful I felt.
At last Christine herself seemed to have had enough of the subject,
for, stepping back from the bank, she once more offered him her hand.
He took it in his, and then, in spite of a quite obvious attempt on
her part to prevent him, I saw him bend down and press it to his lips.
My longing to kick him suddenly became so acute that in another
second I should have jumped down into the roadway. Luckily, however,
providence just saved me from this idiocy. Pulling away her hand,
Christine turned round abruptly in the direction of the house, and,
obeying a sort of automatic impulse, I bobbed down again behind the
hedge.
There I stopped, listening intently. For a few moments nothing
happened; then I heard the quick tread of footsteps in the roadway,
and in the same stealthy fashion as before, I lifted my head until I
could see over the top of the bushes.
There was no one in sight except Christine. She was walking rapidly
back towards the gate, and was already quite close to where I was
hiding. Manning had disappeared completely, and any lingering
tendency to caution I still had vanished into thin air.