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Page 80
"Oh, rather. What about you?"
Bill explained his feelings picturesquely.
"There wouldn't have been much point in his killing you," said
Antony prosaically. "Besides being too risky."
"Oh!" said Bill. And then, "I had rather hoped that it was his
love for me which restrained him."
Antony laughed.
"I doubt it .... You didn't turn up your light when you
dressed?"
"Good Lord, no. Did you want me to?"
Antony laughed again and took him by the arm.
"You're a splendid conspirator, Bill. You and I could take on
anything together."
The pond was waiting for them, more solemn in the moonlight. The
trees which crowned the sloping bank on the far side of it were
mysteriously silent. It seemed that they had the world very much
to themselves.
Almost unconsciously Antony spoke in a whisper.
"There's your tree, there's mine. As long as you don't move,
there's no chance of his seeing you. After he's gone, don't come
out till I do. He won't be here for a quarter of an hour or so,
so don't be impatient."
"Righto," whispered Bill.
Antony gave him a nod and a smile, and they walked off to their
posts.
The minutes went by slowly. To Antony, lying hidden in the
undergrowth at the foot of his tree, a new problem was presenting
itself. Suppose Cayley had to make more than one journey that
night? He might come back to find them in the boat; one of them,
indeed, in the water. And if they decided to wait in hiding, on
the chance of Cayley coming back again, what was the least time
they could safely allow? Perhaps it would be better to go round
to the front of the house and watch for his return there, the
light in his bedroom, before conducting their experiments at the
pond. But then they might miss his second visit in this way, if
he made a second visit. It was difficult.
His eyes were fixed on the boat as he considered these things,
and suddenly, as if materialized from nowhere, Cayley was
standing by the boat. In his hand was a small brown bag.
Cayley put the bag in the bottom of the boat, stepped in, and
using an oar as a punt-pole, pushed slowly off. Then, very
silently, he rowed towards the middle of the pond.
He had stopped. The oars rested on the water. He picked up the
bag from between his feet, leant over the nose of the boat, and
rested it lightly on the water for a moment. Then he let go. It
sank slowly. He waited there, watching; afraid, perhaps, that it
might rise again. Antony began to count ....
And now Cayley was back at his starting-place. He tied up the
boat, looked carefully round to see that he had left no traces
behind him, and then turned to the water again. For a long time,
as it seemed to the watchers, he stood there, very big, very
silent, in the moonlight. At last he seemed satisfied. Whatever
his secret was, he had hidden it; and so with a gentle sigh, as
unmistakable to Antony as if he had heard it, Cayley turned away
and vanished again as quietly as he had come.
Antony gave him three minutes, and stepped out from the trees.
He waited there for Bill to join him.
"Six," whispered Bill.
Antony nodded.
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