The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
"How do you spell connecting?" demanded Algy, looking up from his labours. "And, anyway, the damn pencil won't write."
"Pay attention, all of you," said Hugh. "To-night, some time about ten of the clock, Algy's motor will proceed along the Godalming-Guildford road. It will contain you three—also Ted and Jerry Seymour, if we can get 'em. On approaching the gate of The Elms, you will render the night hideous with your vocal efforts. Stray passers-by will think that you are all tight. Then will come the dramatic moment, when, with a heavy crash, you ram the gate."
"How awfully jolly!" spluttered Algy. "I beg to move that your car be used for the event."
"Can't be done, old son," laughed Hugh. "Mine's faster than yours, and I'll be wanting it myself. Now—to proceed. Horrified at this wanton damage to property, you will leave the car and proceed in mass formation up the drive."
"Still giving tongue?" queried Darrell.
"Still giving tongue. Either Ted or Jerry or both of 'em will approach the house and inform the owner in heart-broken accents that they have damaged his gatepost. You three will remain in the garden—you might be recognised. Then it will be up to you. You'll have several men all round you. Keep 'em occupied—somehow. They won't hurt you; they'll only be concerned with seeing that you don't go where you're not wanted. You see, as far as the world is concerned, it's just an ordinary country residence. The last thing they want to do is to draw any suspicion on themselves—and, on the face of it, you are merely five convivial wanderers who have looked on the wine when it was red. I think," he added thoughtfully, "that ten minutes will be enough for me...."
"What will you be doing?" said Toby.
"I shall be looking for Potts. Don't worry about me. I may find him; I may not. But when you have given me ten minutes—you clear off. I'll look after myself. Now is that clear?"
"Perfectly," said Darrell, after a short silence. "But I don't know that I like it, Hugh. It seems to me, old son, that you're running an unnecessary lot of risk."
"Got any alternative?" demanded Drummond.
"If we're all going down," said Darrell, "why not stick together and rush the house in a gang?"
"No go, old bean," said Hugh decisively. "Too many of 'em to hope to pull it off. No, low cunning is the only thing that's got an earthly of succeeding."
"There is one other possible suggestion," remarked Toby slowly. "What about the police? From what you say, Hugh, there's enough in that house to jug the whole bunch."
"Toby!" gasped Hugh. "I thought better of you. You seriously suggest that we should call in the police! And then return to a life of toping and ease! Besides," he continued, removing his eyes from the abashed author of this hideous suggestion, "there's a very good reason for keeping the police out of it. You'd land the girl's father in the cart, along with the rest of them. And it makes it so devilish awkward if one's father-in-law is in prison!"
"When are we going to see this fairy?" demanded Algy.
"You, personally, never. You're far too immoral. I might let the others look at her from a distance in a year or two." With a grin he rose, and then strolled towards the door. "Now go and rope in Ted and Jerry, and for the love of Heaven don't ram the wrong gate."
"What are you going to do yourself?" demanded Peter suspiciously.
"I'm going to look at her from close to. Go away, all of you, and don't listen outside the telephone box."
III
Hugh stopped his car at Guildford station and, lighting a cigarette, strolled restlessly up and down. He looked at his watch a dozen times in two minutes; he threw away his smoke before it was half finished. In short he manifested every symptom usually displayed by the male of the species when awaiting the arrival of the opposite sex. Over the telephone he had arranged that SHE should come by train from Godalming to confer with him on a matter of great importance; SHE had said she would, but what was it? He, having no suitable answer ready, had made a loud buzzing noise indicative of a telephone exchange in pain, and then rung off. And now he was waiting in that peculiar condition of mind which reveals itself outwardly in hands that are rather too warm, and feet that are rather too cold.
"When is this bally train likely to arrive?" He accosted a phlegmatic official, who regarded him coldly, and doubted the likelihood of its being more than a quarter of an hour early.
At length it was signalled, and Hugh got back into his car. Feverishly he scanned the faces of the passengers as they came out into the street, until, with a sudden quick jump of his heart, he saw her, cool and fresh, coming towards him with a faint smile on her lips.
"What is this very important matter you want to talk to me about?" she demanded, as he adjusted the rug round her.
"I'll tell you when we get out on the Hog's Back," he said, slipping in his clutch. "It's absolutely vital."
He stole a glance at her, but she was looking straight in front of her, and her face seemed expressionless.
"You must stand a long way off when you do," she said demurely. "At least if it's the same thing as you told me over the 'phone."
Hugh grinned sheepishly.
"The Exchange went wrong," he remarked at length. "Astonishing how rotten the telephones are in Town these days."
"Quite remarkable," she returned. "I thought you weren't feeling very well or something. Of course, if it was the Exchange..."
"They sort of buzz and blow, don't you know," he explained helpfully.
"That must be most fearfully jolly for them," she agreed. And there was silence for the next two miles....
Once or twice he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in every detail of the sweet profile so near to him. Except for their first meeting at the Carlton, it was the only time he had ever had her completely to himself, and Hugh was determined to make the most of it. He felt as if he could go on driving for ever, just he and she alone. He had an overwhelming longing to put out his hand and touch a soft tendril of hair which was blowing loose just behind her ear; he had an overwhelming longing to take her in his arms, and ... It was then that the girl turned and looked at him. The car swerved dangerously....
"Let's stop," she said, with the suspicion of a smile. "Then you can tell me."
Hugh drew into the side of the road, and switched off the engine.
"You're not fair," he remarked, and if the girl saw his hand trembling a little as he opened the door, she gave no sign. Only her breath came a shade faster, but a mere man could hardly be expected to notice such a trifle as that....
He came and stood beside her, and his right arm lay along the seat just behind her shoulders.
"You're not fair," he repeated gravely. "I haven't swerved like that since I first started to drive."
"Tell me about this important thing," she said a little nervously.
He smiled, and no woman yet born could see Hugh Drummond smile without smiling too.
"You darling!" he whispered, under his breath—"you adorable darling!" His arm closed around her, and, almost before she realised it, she felt his lips on hers. For a moment she sat motionless, while the wonder of it surged over her, and the sky seemed more gloriously blue, and the woods a richer green. Then, with a little gasp, she pushed him away.
"You mustn't ... oh! you mustn't, Hugh," she whispered.
"And why not, little girl?" he said exultingly. "Don't you know I love you?"
"But look, there's a man over there, and he'll see."
Hugh glanced at the stolid labourer in question, and smiled.
"Go an absolute mucker over the cabbages, what! Plant carrots by mistake." His face was still very close to hers. "Well?"