‘I don’t know. I think he did, but afterwards he wasn’t sure. I went into the tobacconists and watched him through the window. He looked up and down, and then, when he saw no one, he wasn’t sure – I could see it in his face. He didn’t see you, did he?’
‘I don’t think so – I had my paper up.’
The man in the tweed coat said, ‘Wait a minute! When you get back you can find out what is on his mind about me. He’s had a shock, he is doubtful, but you must find out what is the state of his mind when the shock has passed. If he is dangerous, steps must be taken at once. In any case it is very nearly time, but if it is possible without too much risk he should be allowed to complete his experiments. I leave it to you.’
Michael Harsch sat on a bench at Marbury station and waited for his train. His mind felt bruised and incapable of thought. He was very tired.
CHAPTER TWO
MICHAEL HARSCH CAME out of the hut in which he had been working and stood looking down the tilted field to the house at Prior’s End. Because the work on which he was engaged was dangerous, and there was always present the possibility that it might end itself and him quite suddenly in a puff of smoke, the house was nearly quarter of a mile away. The hut was long and low, a shabby-looking affair roughly creosoted to withstand the weather, but the door through which he had come was a very solid one, and the line of windows not only carried bars but were secured inside by strong and heavy shutters.
He turned to lock the door behind him, pocketed the key, and then stood again as he had done before, looking out past the house to the lane which followed the slope, and the line of willows which marked the trickling course of the Bourne.