vendor.
'"Take what you want," says God, "and pay for it," 'she suddenly observed, with a chuckle. 'Next time I come, I should like, at any rate, to see the book. I should also be interested to hear how it came into your possession.'
'I inherited it,' replied Mrs Harries.
'Then we must be related.'
'Oh, I knew that directly you came in,' said the sightless old woman with conviction. As there was neither proof nor disproof of this statement, Mrs Bradley paid it the perfunctory attention of a 'Really?' and prepared to take her leave.
'Another cup?' said her hostess. Mrs Bradley declined gracefully. Very strong tea laced equally strongly with gin was not her usual afternoon beverage.
'I hope, madam,' said George, respectfully aware of something preoccupied in his employer's manner when she returned to the car, 'that your researches are about to be blessed.'
'Cursed, George,' said Mrs Bradley, as he arranged the rug over her knees. 'That elderly woman has the local reputation, didn't you tell me, of a witch?'
'That was pub talk, madam.'
'She also claims to be a relation of mine.'
'I wouldn't be greatly surprised at that, madam. I have often been aware of the eldritch in you.'
Mrs Bradley gazed at her man as stout Cortez gazed at the Pacific. George had often surprised her, but never more so than at this particular moment.
'George,' she said solemnly, 'you have hit it. And now, since there is not only the eldritch in me but a particularly nauseous witch's brew of strong sweet tea laced with gin, get me back to the house at once, and have the car ready again at ten o'clock to-night.'
*
'Well, go on, knock,' said Merrys. Skene tapped delicately on the cottage door with his bare and, by this time, cold knuckles. There was no reply.
'It isn't any good,' he said. 'I expect they've gone to bed.'
'There's a light downstairs, you ass.'
'I expect they left it on by mistake,' said Skene, who disliked the whole aspect of the situation in which they found themselves.
'Oh, rot. Here, let me try,' said Merrys, covering his knuckles with his school cap and then pounding vigorously on the door.
'I say, you know, they'll be pretty sick if they have gone to bed,' said Skene, nervously.
'Be your age,' retorted his friend; and pounded again. This time the sound of footsteps rewarded the bold effort. The door was opened by an old woman carrying a candle.
'Come in,' she said. 'The candle is to light you, not me. I require no illumination ever contrived by man. Step past me into the house, and sit down. When you have sat you may cross my palm with silver, if you will.'
Suddenly, over her shoulder, there appeared the face of another old woman; a yellow face with brilliant black eyes and a little beaky mouth now writhing back its lips in silent laughter.
Merrys turned, cannoned into his friend, gulped, and, cramming his cap on to his head, raced back to the hedge beside which they had left the bicycle. Just as they gained it a man loomed up in front of its headlamp and took the path through the open gateway between the ragged bushes.
'Good Lord!' said Merrys. 'Did you see who that was?'
'Of course I did,' said Skene, with the nervous anger of extreme dismay.
'He didn't recognize us, did he? Do you suppose he can pick us out in the morning?'
'Don't know. Hope not. We didn't have our caps on.'
'I did! I pulled it out to knock on that beastly door, and shoved it on when we bolted.'
'I say, you are an ass!'
'Well, who would expect to run into a beak out here at this time of night? Come on. It's no good beefing about it now. I don't honestly think he saw us.'
This opinion, delivered roundly, slightly comforted Skene. They ran with the bicycle down the dark road until they were out of breath.
'Ease up!' gasped Merrys, at last. 'He isn't following us. Where the heck do we go from here?'
They dropped to a walk and then were about to stop and mount when Merrys said, his hand to the breast-pocket of his jacket inside his waterproof