She looked splendid--so Roger thought. The underlying red dyed the olive to a brighter hue; her eyes were very proud; the red lips shut decisively. Just like a Roman Empress! Then her face underwent a rapid transformation; the lips parted, the eyes laughed, the cheeks faded to hues less stormy, yet not less beautiful. (These are recorded as Mr. Wilbraham's impressions.) Lightly she laid the tips of her fingers on his arm for just a moment. "There--don't let's talk any more about disagreeable things," she said. "It's too beautiful an afternoon. Can you spare just five minutes? The strawberries are splendid! I want some--and it's so hot to pick them for one's self!" Roger paused, twisting the towel round his neck. "Only five minutes!" pleaded--yes, pleaded--the beautiful Marchesa. "Then you can go and have your swim in peace." It was a question whether poor Roger was to do anything more in peace that day--but he went and picked the strawberries. _Chapter Nine_ LYNBOROUGH DROPS A CATCH "Something has happened!" (So Lynborough records the same evening.) "I don't know precisely what--but I think that the enemy is at last in motion. I'm glad. I was being too successful. I had begun to laugh at her--and that only. I prefer the admixture of another element of emotion. All that ostensibly appears is that I have lost five shillings to Roger. 'You did it?' I asked. 'Certainly,' said Roger. 'I went at my ease and came back at my ease, and--' I interrupted, 'Nobody stopped you?' 'Nobody made any objection,' said Roger. 'You took your time,' says I. 'You were away three hours!' 'The water was very pleasant this afternoon,' says Roger. Hum! I hand over my two half-crowns, which Roger pockets with a most peculiar sort of smile. There that incident appears to end--with a comment from me that the Marchesa's garrison is not very alert. Another smile--not less peculiar--from Roger! _Hum!_ "Then Cromlech! I trust Cromlech as myself--that is, as far as I can see him. He has no secrets from me--that I know of; I have none from him--which would be at all likely to interest him. Yet, soon after Roger's return, Cromlech goes out! And they had been alone together for some minutes, as I happen to have observed. Cromlech is away an hour and a half! If I were not a man of honor, I would have trained the telescope on to him. I refrained. Where was Cromlech? At the church, he told me. I accept his word--but the church has had a curious effect upon him. Sometimes he is silent, sulky, reflective, embarrassed--constantly rubbing the place where his hair ought to be--not altogether too civil to me either. Anon, sits with a fat happy smile on his face! Has he found a new tomb? No; he'd tell me about a new tomb. What has happened to Cromlech?