It was with a sense of extreme depression that he finally reached the house.
The dining-room was in darkness but a light shone faintly round the edge of the study window. The Colonel’s blackout arrangements were not entirely successful. Dikon could hear the drone of voices — the Colonel’s, he thought, and Dr. Ackrington’s — and he tapped at the door and the Colonel called out in a high voice: “Yes, yes, yes? Come in.”
They sat together, portentously, after the manner of elderly gentlemen in conclave. They seemed to be distressed. With a trace, or so Dikon thought, of his old regimental manner, the Colonel said: “Come to report, Bell? That’s right. That’s right.”
Feeling rather like a blushing subaltern, Dikon stood by the desk and gave his account. The Colonel, as usual, stared at him with his eyes wide-open and his mouth not quite closed. Dr. Ackrington looked increasingly perturbed and uncomfortable When Dikon had finished there was a long silence and this surprised him, for he had anticipated that from Dr. Ackrington, at least, there would be a display of wrath in the grand manner. Dikon waited for a minute and then said: “So I thought I’d better come straight back and report.”
“Exactly so,” said the Colonel. “Perfectly correct. Thank you, Bell.” And he actually gave a little nod of dismissal.
“This,” thought Dikon, “is not good enough,” and he said: “The whole affair seemed so very suspicious.”
“No doubt, no doubt,” said Dr. Ackrington very quickly. “I’m afraid, Bell, you’ve merely been afforded a momentary glimpse into a mare’s nest.”
“Yes, but look here, sir…”
Dr. Ackrington raised his hand. “Mr. Falls,” he said, “has already informed us of this incident. We’re satisfied that he acted advisedly.”
“Quite. Quite!” said the Colonel, and touched his moustache. Again with that air of dismissal, he added: “Thank you, Bell.”
“This is not the army,” Dikon thought furiously, and stood his ground.
Dr. Ackrington said: “I think, Edward, that perhaps Bell is entitled to an explanation. Won’t you sit down, Bell?”
With a sense of bewilderment Dikon sat down and waited. These two amazing old gentlemen appeared to have effected a swap of their respective personalities. As far as his native mildness would permit, the Colonel had now assumed an air of austerity; Dr. Ackrington’s manner, on the contrary, was almost propitiatory. He glanced sharply at Dikon, looked away again, cleared his throat, and began.
“Falls,” he said loudly, “had no intention of infringing the bounds that he himself had set upon the extent of his investigation. You will remember that the area between the two points where the red-flagged path deviated from the white-flagged one was to be regarded as out of bounds. He had arrived at the first red flag on this side of Taupo-tapu and was about to turn back when he was arrested by a suspicious noise.”
Dr. Ackrington paused for so long that Dikon felt obliged to prompt him.
“What sort of noise, sir?” he asked.
“Somebody moving about,” said Dr. Ackrington, “on the other side of the mound. He waited for a moment, listening. Then a light flashed out. Under the circumstances Falls decided — rightly, in my opinion — that he’d go forward and establish the identity of this person. As quietly as possible and very slowly, he crept up the mound and looked over it.”
With a sudden dart that made Dikon jump, Colonel Claire thrust a box of cigarettes at him, muttering the preposterous phrase: “No need for formality.” Dikon refused a cigarette and asked what Mr. Falls had discovered.
“Nothing!” said the Colonel opening his eyes very wide. “Nothing at all. Damned annoyin’. What!”
“The fellow either heard Falls coming,” said Dr. Ackrington, “or else he’d finished whatever game he was up to and bolted while Falls was climbing the mound; in my opinion the more likely explanation. He’d a good start and although Falls went some way down the other side and flashed his torch, there wasn’t a sign of anybody. Fellow had got clean away.”
Dikon felt foolish and therefore rather annoyed.
“I see, sir,” he said. “Obviously, I’ve been barking up the wrong tree. But Simon and I had some further cause for believing Mr. Falls to be a rather mysterious person.”
He paused, wishing he had held his tongue.
“Well,” said Dr. Ackrington sharply, “what was it, what was it?”
“I thought perhaps Simon had told you.”
“Simon hasn’t honoured me with his theories which, I have no doubt, constitute a plethora of wild-cat speculations.”
“Not quite that, I think,” Dikon rejoined and he related the story of Mr. Falls and his pipe. To this recital they listened with ill-concealed impatience; indeed it had the effect of restoring Dr Ackrington to his customary form. “Damn and blast that cub of yours, Edward,” he shouted. “What the devil does he mean by concocting these fables and broadcasting them in every quarter but the right one? He knew perfectly well that I regarded Questing’s visits to the Peak with the gravest suspicion, he goes haring off by himself, picks up what may prove to be vital information, and tells me nothing whatever about it. In the mean time a ship goes down and an agent from whom we should have got valuable information goes and gets lost in a mud pot. Of all the blasted, self-sufficient young popinjays…” He broke off and glared at Dikon. “As a partner in this conspiracy of silence, perhaps you will be good enough to offer an explanation.”
Dikon was in a quandary. Though he had refused to be bound to secrecy by Simon he felt that he had betrayed a trust. To tell Dr. Ackrington that he had urged a consultation and that Simon had refused it would be to present himself as an insufferable prig. He said he understood that Simon had every intention of going to the police with his story. Far from pacifying Dr. Ackrington this statement had the effect of still further inflaming him, and Dikon’s assurances that so far as he knew Simon had not yef consulted an authority did little to calm him.
The Colonel bit his moustache and apologized to his brother-in-law for Simon’s behaviour. Dikon attempted to lead the conversation back to Mr. Falls and was instantly snubbed for his pains.
“Sheer twaddle and moonshine,” Dr. Ackrington fumed. “The young ass had his head full of this precious signal and no doubt heard it in everything. What was it?” he demanded. Fortunately Dikon remembered the signal and repeated it.
“Makes no sense in Morse,” said the Colonel unhappily. “Four t’s, four 5’s, a t, a I, and an s. Ridiculous, you know, that sort of thing.”
“My good Edward, I don’t for an instant doubt the significance of this signal as flashed from the Peak. Do you imagine that Questing would communicate in intelligent Morse code to an enemy raider: ‘Ship sails to-morrow night kindly sink and oblige yours Questing’?” He gave an unpleasant bark of laughter. “It’s this tarradiddle about Falls and his pipe that I totally discredit. The man’s full of nervous mannerisms. I’ve observed him. He’s forever fiddling with his pipe. And will you be good enough to tell me, Mr. Bell, how one distinguishes between a long and a short tap? Pah!”
Dikon thought this over. “By the intervals between the taps?” he suggested timidly.
“Indeed? Would Simon be able, without warning, so to distinguish?”
“The t’s would sound very like a collection of o’s and m’s,” said the Colonel.
“I never heard such high-falutin piffle in my life,” added Dr. Ackrington.
“I don’t profess to read Morse,” said Dikon huffily.