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Page 62
Antony nodded quickly. "That was like it?" he said.
"Exactly."
"Yes." He got up and squeezed Bill's arm. "Well just go and see
about Cayley, and then we'll get moving. I shall be in the
library."
"Right."
Bill nodded and walked off in the direction of the pond. This
was glorious fun; this was life. The immediate programme could
hardly be bettered. First of all he was going to stalk Cayley.
There was a little copse above the level of the pond, and about a
hundred yards away from it. He would come into this from the
back, creep cautiously through it, taking care that no twigs
cracked, and then, drawing himself on his stomach to the edge,
peer down upon the scene below him. People were always doing
that sort of thing in books, and he had been filled with a
hopeless envy of them; well, now he was actually going to do it
himself. What fun!
And then, when he had got back unobserved to the house and
reported to Antony, they were going to explore the secret
passage! Again, what fun! Unfortunately there seemed to be no
chance of buried treasure, but there might be buried clues. Even
if you found nothing, you couldn't get away from the fact that a
secret passage was a secret passage, and anything might happen in
it. But even that wasn't the end of this exciting day. They
were going to watch the pond that night; they were going to watch
Cayley under the moonlight, watch him as he threw into the
silence of the pond what? The revolver? Well, anyhow, they were
going to watch him. What fun!
To Antony, who was older and who realized into what deep waters
they were getting, it did not seem fun. But it was amazingly
interesting. He saw so much, and yet somehow it was all out of
focus. It was like looking at an opal, and discovering with
every movement of it some new colour, some new gleam of light
reflected, and yet never really seeing the opal as a whole. He
was too near it, or too far away; he strained his eyes and he
relaxed his eyes; it was no good. His brain could not get hold
of it.
But there were moments when he almost had it .... and then turned
away from it. He had seen more of life than Bill, but he had
never seen murder before, and this which was in his mind now, and
to which he was afraid to listen, was not just the hot-blooded
killing which any man may come to if he lose control. It was
something much more horrible. Too horrible to be true. Then let
him look again for the truth. He looked again but it was all out
of focus.
"I will not look again," he said aloud, as he began to walk
towards the house. "Not yet, anyway." He would go on collecting
facts and impressions. Perhaps the one fact would come along, by
itself which would make everything clear.
CHAPTER XIV
Mr. Beverley Qualifies for the Stage
Bill had come back, and had reported, rather breathless, that
Cayley was still at the pond.
"But I don't think they're getting up much except mud," he said.
"I ran most of the way back so as to give us as much time as
possible."
Antony nodded.
"Well, come along, then," he said. "The sooner, the quicker."
They stood in front of the row of sermons. Antony took down the
Reverend Theodore Ussher's famous volume, and felt for the
spring. Bill pulled. The shelves swung open towards them.
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