He went back into the Pill Box, took off his coat, rolled up his left sleeve, and strapped Anna securely to his forearm. That was for emergencies; but now that the Tiger knew all about Anna the Saint had to rummage in his bag for her twin sister, and this dangerous woman he fixed to his left calf in a similar manner, where it would be quite likely to be overlooked if he were caught and searched. He made sure that he had his first-aid cigarette case in his hip pocket, and as an afterthought added to the kit a telescopic rod of the finest steel with a claw at one end. As a final precaution, he sat down and scribbled a note: If I don’t turn up by seven-thirty look for me at the Old House—the place behind the village that used to be an inn. Failing that, try Bloem’s or Bittle’s. Don’t go to Carn till you’ve drawn blank at all those three places. And BE CAREFUL. If they get me they’ll be on the look out for you. This he folded, addressed to Orace, and left in a conspicuous position in the kitchen, where his man would be sure to find it when he returned. Then the Saint went swinging down the track towards the village. It was a ticklish job he was embarking on. In broad daylight stealth was out of the question. It would mean walking boldly up to the enemy fortress and trying to get as far as he wanted in one dash, before the opposition could collect their wits. And then there would be ructions—but that would have to take care of itself. The Saint did not remember the Old House very distinctly, and he paused at the edge of a spinney lower down the hill to survey the land. And then he gave thanks once again for the continuance of his phenomenal luck. There it was—the blessing out of the blue that he’d never dared to hope or pray for—a long low wall that sprang from one corner of the Old House and ran north towards the straggly outskirts of the village, losing itself behind a couple of sheds belonging to a small farm. Hardly believing his good fortune, the Saint hurried down the slope and passed through the village. He worked round the farm outbuildings, and found that he was not deceived. The wall started there, and it was just high enough to screen his advance if he bent almost double. That was not a very difficult feat, and Simon plunged straight on into his adventure. Stooping down, he trotted rapidly along under cover of the wall till he had nearly reached the nearest corner of the Old House. At that point he slowed up and proceeded with more caution, travelling on his toes and finger-tips, in case there should be a watcher posted at an upper window. When he actually came to the Old House itself he flattened down on his stomach and lay prone for a moment while he planned his entrance.