ess
over the hall, and Cayley may be there." He led the way to the window.
"We'll go out this way to-night. Going downstairs is too risky. It's
easy enough; better put on tennis-shoes."

"Right. I say, in case I don't get another chance alone with you what do
I do when Cayley comes to tuck me up?"

"It's difficult to say. Be as natural as you can. I mean, if he just
knocks lightly and looks in, be asleep. Don't overdo the snoring. But
if he makes a hell of a noise, you'll have to wake up and rub your eyes,
and wonder what on earth he's doing in your room at all. You know the
sort of thing."

"Right. And about the dummy figure. I'll make it up directly we come
upstairs, and hide it under the bed."

"Yes.... I think we'd better go completely to bed ourselves. We shan't
take a moment dressing again, and it will give him time to get safely
into the passage. Then come into my room."

"Right.... Are you ready?"

"Yes."

They went downstairs together.

CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Beverley Takes the Water

Cayley seemed very fond of them that night. After dinner was over, he
suggested a stroll outside. They walked up and down the gravel in front
of the house, saying very little to each other, until Bill could
stand it no longer. For the last twenty turns he had been slowing down
hopefully each time they came to the door, but the hint had always been
lost on his companions, and each time another turn had been taken. But
in the end he had been firm.

"What about a little billiards?" he said, shaking himself free from the
others.

"Will you play?" said Antony to Cayley.

"I'll watch you," he said, and he had watched them resolutely until the
game, and then another game after that; had been played.

They went into the hall and attacked the drinks.

"Well, thank heaven for bed," said Bill; putting down his glass. "Are
you coming?"

"Yes," said Antony, and finished his drink. He looked at Cayley.

"I've just got one or two little things to do," said Cayley. "I shan't
be long following you."

"Well, good night, then."

"Good night."

"Good night," called Bill from half-way up the stairs. "Good night,
Tony."

"Good night."

Bill looked at his watch. Half-past eleven. Not much chance of anything
happening for another hour. He pulled open a drawer and wondered what
to wear on their expedition. Grey flannel trousers, flannel shirt, and
a dark coat; perhaps a sweater, as they might be lying out in the copse
f