Part 49 (1/2)

”Nap!” Anne's voice was a curious compound of consternation and relief.

Somehow--doubtless it was the effect of thunder in the atmosphere--she had expected something in the nature of tragedy.

Nap put on his most contrite air. ”Do be a brick and take it nicely!” he pleaded. ”I know I was an all-fired fool not to see to it for myself. But I was called away, and so I had to leave it to those dunderheads at the garage. I only made the discovery when I left you a couple of hours ago.

There was just enough left to take me to Rodding, so I pelted off at once to some motorworks I knew of there, only to find the place was empty.

It's a hole of a town. There was some game on, and I couldn't get a conveyance anywhere. So I just put up the motor and came back across country on foot. I don't see what else I could have done, do you?”

Anne did not for the moment, but she was considering the situation too rapidly to answer him.

”My only consolation,” he went on, ”is that you have got a change of raiment, which is more than I have. Oh, yes, I had the sense to think of that contingency. Your bag is at the inn here, waiting for you.”

”You had better have taken me back with you to Rodding,” Anne said.

”Yes, I know. But I expected to be back in half an hour if all went well.

It's easy to be wise after the event, isn't it? I've thought of that myself since.” Nap picked up a twig and bit it viciously. ”Anyway, there is some tea waiting for us. Shall we go back?”

Anne turned beside him. ”Then what do you propose to do?”

He glanced at her. ”Nothing before morning, I'm afraid. There is no vehicle to be had here. I will send someone down to Rodding in the morning for a conveyance. We can take the train from there to Staps, where I can get some petrol. We ought by that means to reach home sometime in the afternoon. It is the only feasible plan, I am afraid; unless you can suggest a better.”

He looked at her keenly, still biting at the twig between his teeth.

Anne walked for several seconds in silence. At last, ”Would it be quite impossible to walk to Rodding now?” she asked.

”Not at all,” said Nap. ”It is about eight miles through the woods. We should be benighted, of course. Also I fancy there is a storm coming up.

But if you wish to make the attempt--”

”I was only wondering,” she said quietly, ”if we could get an evening train to Staps. That, I know, is on the main line. You could put up there, and I could take the night train to town.”

”Oh, quite so,” said Nap. ”Shall we have tea before we start?”

They had emerged from the wood and were beginning to climb the hill. The veiled sunlight gave an unreal effect to the landscape. The broom bushes looked ghostly.

Anne gave an uneasy glance around. ”I believe you are right about the storm,” she said.

”I generally am right,” observed Nap.

They walked on. ”I shouldn't like to be benighted in the woods,” she said presently.

His scoffing smile showed for an instant. ”Alone with me too! Most improper!”

”I was thinking we might miss the way,” Anne returned with dignity. ”I wonder--shall we risk it?”

She turned to him as if consulting him, but Nap's face was to the sky.

”That is for you to decide,” he said. ”We might do it. The storm won't break at present.”

”It will be violent when it does,” she said.