Jimmy, though daring, was not reckless. With rapid motion of hand and foot he changed gear. The car sped forward with a shrill cry. Jimmy changed gear again, and took the first of the sharp bends at a little over twenty-five miles an hour. His passengers clung tightly to the sides of the car. The brakes stuttered. The low gear cried more shrilly. Another corner was safely passed. "Nasty place on a foggy night," said Jimmy, "if you happened to be trying it for the first time." He went boldly on, for it was neither night nor foggy. The sun glittered on a calm sea far below them. The steep, thatched roofs of the fishermen's cottages were seen, as roofs seldom are except by those who go about in aeroplanes. The little boat haven, in reality a slimy pool, looked like a glowing gem. The vicarage, somewhat apart from the village, was modestly picturesque like a shy girl in light summer clothes. The church, its squat, grey tower bathed in sunlight, stood on guard above the village, perched on the little plateau, the sea and the cliffs below it, a tall, rugged cliff rising high behind and above it. "Isn't it perfectly lovely?" said Mary, who had never seen Hailey Compton before. She had got over her first fear of the steepness of the descent. Sir Evelyn, sitting beside her in the back of the car, was still too nervous to join in admiration of the scenery. "I do wish he'd be more cautious," was all he could say. Jimmy, guided by Beth, swept along the village street, charged the short hill to the vicarage gate and pulled up before the door. Mrs. Eames rushed out to welcome them. She kissed Beth vehemently, grasped Sir Evelyn's hand and shook it with affectionate violence, was introduced to Mary, and kissed her, was introduced to Jimmy and looked for a moment as if she meant to kiss him. "You'll lunch with us, of course," she said. "I'm so sorry Timothy isn't here, Sir Evelyn, and he won't be back for lunch I'm afraid, unless I send for him. But I will send for him. Gladys shall go. He's up in the church." "Still?" said Sir Evelyn. He was a little surprised. Mr. Eames had retired to the church three weeks before. It seemed scarcely possible that he had been there ever since. "Your poor dear uncle," said Mrs. Eames to Beth, "is more tiresome than I've ever known him before. Not that I want to say a word against him. He's a darling, but it is tiresome of him to spend all of every day in the church. I never see him except at night, and do you know what I found out yesterday? He's taken a spade and a pickaxe up there with him. At least, if he hasn't taken them I don't know what's happened to them. I can't find them. The man who does the garden wanted the spade yesterday, and while he was looking for it he found that the pickaxe was gone too. So annoying." "Couldn't be digging graves, could he?" said Jimmy not very helpfully.