“Pray calm yourself, Miss Brentwood,” said Pons, taking up his pipe again. “You have told us a strange and sombre story with a finale that would have shattered stronger nerves than yours. That your uncle does not think you fanciful is obvious, or he would not have followed you here. You may be in danger but I fancy it is now past. You say Marcus has hanged himself? Well, if that is so. it may bode ill for your legacy, Miss Brentwood.”
The girl turned a face to him in which surprise was mingled with something like contempt.
“The legacy does not matter, Mr Pons. I hope I have not given the impression that I am a mercenary person. Where my sanity and my future are concerned, money does not come into it.”
“Well spoken.” said I.
Solar Pons smoked on moodily, shovelling out blue plumes over his shoulder.
“But how could my uncle have traced me, Mr Pons?” the girl asked.
My companion shrugged.
“That is the easiest thing in the world, Miss Brentwood. He may have seen you going out at the gate in the early hours of the morning and followed you to the Rector’s house. An innocent query in that direction would have given him the information he sought. I take it you laid no constraint on the Rector in the matter?”
Our client shook her head.
“By no means, Mr Pons. I did not wish to give the impression that I distrusted my uncle. These things get back too easily in a small village.”
“Quite so.”
Solar Pons breathed out another swathe of blue smoke.
“Of course, he might merely have followed you to the station and have caught the same train. Would that be possible?”
“Quite possible, Mr Pons. I had no eyes for anything or anybody with the shock I had suffered. Then again, I asked a policeman outside the tube station the best way to this address. If my uncle was close behind me might have gained my query from the officer.”
“Perhaps,” muttered Solar Pons. “But that is of mere academic interest now. The important thing is that he suspects you of coming to me. Which might put your life in danger.”
“Heavens, Pons!” I interjected. “Miss Brentwood has been frightened enough already.”
“I am sorry for that, Parker, but it is no good blinking the facts. These are deep waters and there is little time to lose.”
“But what does it all mean, Mr Pons?”
“It means that I will take the case most willingly, my dear young lady. The first thing we must do is to accompany you to Surrey by the first available train and make sure that your uncle’s temper does not get the better of him. He may say nothing, of course.”
“How do you make that out, Pons?”
My companion shot me an irritated glance.
“For the simple reason that it was obvious when he arrived that we knew nothing of his niece. He will be off balance, to say the least. If he questions his niece about a visit to Praed Street he will give away his hand.”
“Whatever that is, Pons?” I said bitterly. “I must confess I am all at sea.”
Solar Pons smiled faintly.
“You have often had a heaving deck beneath your feet, friend Parker,” he said jocularly, “but I have always brought you safe to shore, have I not?”
“That’s true,” I conceded.
Solar Pons rose briskly from his chair.
“Is there a hostelry thereabouts, where Parker and I could put up for the night?”
“There is the Green Dragon in Peas Pleasance, Mr Pons.”
Pons shook his head.
“I think not, Miss Brentwood. That would be too close for comfort in a tiny hamlet. I think it will have to be Godalming. We would be within easy striking distance from there, providing we can hire a car.”
He reached out a lean forefinger and took down his large-scale map from a shelf near the mantel.
“Can you find the time to come to Surrey, Parker?”
“I have already found the time, Pons,” I said. “I will just make my arrangements and will be ready within the half-hour. But I am still worried about Miss Brentwood.”
“So am I, Parker,” said Solar Pons sombrely, looking down at the frail figure of the girl. “She must have a story ready for her uncle. I would suggest a sudden impulse to get away from the house as a result of her illness and concussion. Have you any friends in London, Miss Brentwood?”
“I have an old school friend who lives in Park Street, Mr Pons.”
“There you are. then.”
Solar Pons had a smile of triumph in his face.
“You must first telephone our friend and get her to corroborate your story, should your uncle check. You went to this lady at Park Street, but owing to your confused state of mind you got lost. Roseacre will think you asked the policeman the way to Park Street and that he misheard the direction for Praed Street. Of course, if he has already been to the Rector, that will not do. But I am convinced he will not question you too closely or he will give his game away.”
“What game. Pons?”
“All in good time, Parker,” said Solar Pons imperturbably.
“And now, if you will excuse me, while Miss Brentwood is telephoning, I will just take a few minutes to throw some things into a bag and we will be off. And bring your revolver, Parker. We might well have need of it.”
4
It was already dark when we alighted from the train at Godalming in the early evening and the thin mist was persisting. I pulled up my collar round my frozen ears and assisted the girl across the platform. Pons had telephoned for a hire-car and the driver was already in the station forecourt. We adjourned to the waiting room while I signed the necessary papers and paid my deposit and Pons and the girl had already ensconced themselves in the interior when I returned to the vehicle.
I drove on into the town and we stopped at The Blue Boar while Pons and I registered, were shown to our rooms and deposited our luggage. We had left the girl in the hotel lounge and over a drink in that comfortable, warm and panelled room she seemed to recover her normal girlish spirits. Solar Pons toasted her over the rim of his glass.
“These are passing shadows. Miss Brentwood,” he said. “To better days.”
“I heartily concur. Pons.” I added, sipping my whisky and soda gratefully.
Pons sat down in our alcove with its leather banquettes and crossed his thin legs.
“We must just plan our campaign, Miss Brentwood. Is Mrs Bevan to be trusted?”
“Indeed, Mr Pons. She is quite devoted to me.”
“Excellent. So she would be discreet if Parker and I arrived at the house during your uncle’s absence?”
“Absolutely, Mr Pons.”
“I hope I can rely on that, because it is vitally important. Now, what is The Priory like? For example, can your quarters be seen from the public road?”
“Oh, indeed, Mr Pons. There is only a moderate-sized lawn between the house and the front gate. The main garden is at the rear.”
“So your room is in front?”
“Yes. The central window on the first floor.”
Solar Pons nodded in satisfaction.
“You mentioned shutters at your bedroom window. It would be of the greatest assistance to us if you would fasten the shutters over your window, day or night, whenever your uncle is absent from home. Parker and I will then be able to see if the coast is clear without venturing farther than the main road and can act accordingly.”
“First-rate, Pons,” I said enthusiastically. “I could not have thought of a better scheme myself.”