“That’s right,” he admitted cheerfully; “I can see it now. Brightly-colored beads they were—under a kind of glass covering.” “Was the word ‘and’ shown in full—with its full complement of letters—that is?” “What do you mean?” “Just this! In the present day, ‘and’ is often expressed by a kind of hieroglyphic—you know what I mean—I don’t quite know how old the practice is—but counting ‘and’ as one—if it had been shown like that—there would have been just twenty-two letters in the inscription—see what I’m getting at?” Peter shook his head. “That theory goes ‘phut,’ old man,” he declared, “‘and’ was depicted in full—the three letters, a—n—d.” “Thank you,” replied Anthony somewhat surprisingly cheerfully. “I’m rather glad, as a matter of fact, to hear you say that—it rather strengthens my belief in my other theory.” Goodall looked up at the clock anxiously. “Mr. Stewart should be here, Mr. Bathurst—I don’t want to stay in here too long, you know. I shall be getting uneasy.” “Neither do I. Let’s go and have a look outside!” They scanned the white stretch of road that wound its serpentine-like way through the green of the countryside. For the moment their eyes saw nothing—then Anthony spoke to his companions. “Our man—I fancy!” He pointed in the reverse direction to that in which they had been looking. “Traveling pretty fast, too,” muttered Goodall. “He’s a trifle late—that’s why,” replied Anthony. In a few moments the big car spun into the inn-yard with Charles Stewart at the wheel. His face seemed set and anxious. “Sorry if I’m a bit behind time, Bathurst,” he apologized, “I miscalculated the distance this place was away—I hope it hasn’t inconvenienced you at all.” Anthony got into the car and sat next to him. “We were getting a bit worried about you—that was all. I’ll travel back with you! Daventry—you drive the Inspector in the Colonel’s car. Make straight for ‘Neuve Chapelle’!” The two cars swung out on to the road—Peter in the “Bentley” leading. “I should like to get back to the Colonel’s by ten to ten at the latest,” exclaimed Anthony. “Can we do it?” “Easy,” said Stewart. “I’ll let her out when we get on to the Rockinge road—it’s bound to be pretty clear there—it always is.” “What about O’Connor, Bathurst?” he continued. “Did you see him all right as you desired?” “Yes—thanks! I’ve arranged all that I wanted.” He paused and looked at his companion. “I’m rather afraid that events have crowded upon us very quickly, Mr. Stewart, and that coming so soon after this morning they may have proved a severe strain upon you—but there is this much to be said, I hope to clear up the whole business within the next few hours.” Stewart nodded. “It will be a great relief—perhaps in time I may school myself to forget it all . . . except that wretched will, though . . . that’s likely to be a permanent obstacle.” “Nine-fifty-two,” he announced eventually as they drew up outside Colonel Leach-Fletcher’s. “Not bad going that.”