“Well, Inspector, you do know more than I do,” grumbled Peter. “If anybody’s got a real legitimate ‘grouse’ it’s little Peter—that’s enough—thanks—I haven’t got an appetite like the Inspector here.” Anthony drained the contents of his tankard and surveyed his two companions with an almost fatherly air of condescension and regard. “You must allow me to stage-manage the show in the way I think best. Really—I could charge you both with downright ingratitude! I procure a topping car for you—if you prefer the word ‘procure’ to borrow—I drive you out into some most charming country—and I carefully select an inn that provides you with delicious cold lamb, admirable new potatoes, delightful green peas, singularly delectable mint-sauce, excellent Cheddar—all washed down with cooling draughts of the wine of the country. In exchange for all this—you censure me for what you both appear to consider excessive reticence.” Goodall looked intently at him. “‘Borrow,’ did you say? Now I thought I’d seen that car before—now I know where it was—that’s Colonel Leach-Fletcher’s ‘Bentley’ we’ve been joy-riding in!” He slapped his hand on his thigh. “Quite right, Inspector,” exclaimed Anthony. “I thought you would spot its identity when I invited you to get in and be seated!” “Wasn’t thinking of it then—I was wondering where you were taking us to and what was the big idea!” Daventry handed round the cigarettes. “Why were you so anxious to get off the main road?” he queried. “‘Journeys end in lovers meeting,’” quoth Mr. Bathurst—“I didn’t want to meet people—two in particular.” He looked at his watch. “It’s half-past eight, Goodall,” he announced; “I asked Stewart to be here at nine.” “Stewart?” questioned the Inspector. “Yes—he’s coming back, according to my intentions, with the three of us to Assynton Lodge—and we’re going via ‘Neuve Chapelle’—Colonel Leach-Fletcher’s house is the Rockinge side of Assynton—that’s why we’re going round that way. It will be safer!” Goodall nodded an assent. “Of course,” continued Anthony—“it’s just on the cards that we shall draw a complete blank—but as I said before, I don’t think so. Impatience is a tyrannical taskmaster—ask any woman! Come into the smoke-room!” They made themselves comfortable. “I calculate that it will be dark about a quarter-past ten—we have three-quarters of an hour’s journey from here by car—let alone the walk from the Colonel’s. We should leave here, to be on the safe side, directly Stewart comes.” “You think it’s certain that nothing will happen before dark?” asked Goodall. “I don’t think any attempt will be made,” answered Anthony, “_before midnight_! They will wait until it’s really dark—still we mustn’t give any chances away. Now, Daventry—I want to talk to you! That screen you saw at the Hanover Galleries! If my memory isn’t faulty, it was covered with the words, ‘Jesus Christ, God and Saviour,’ in beads. Am I right?” Peter nodded.