"You don't appreciate friend Flinders," Peter told her. "He may not be quick, but he's thorough. Why, he even inspected the bathroom, didn't he?"
"That's right," said Charles. "Dogged does it is Henry's watchword. He won't leave a mouse-hole undisturbed. You wait till he comes down our chimney one night to see if it can be done, before you judge him."
But during the next two days, as fresh evidence of the constable's devotion to duty was continually forthcoming, he became even less popular. On the first day of his watch, Jane, the housemaid, was with difficulty persuaded to rescind her "notice," which she promptly gave on discerning the constable crouched under a rhododendron bush. She was on her way home, soon after sundown, and this unnerving sight induced her to give way to a strong fit of hysterics under the drawingroom window. Celia and Peter rushed out in time to witness the aghast constable endeavouring to reassure Jane, while Mrs. Bowers, first upon the scene, divided her attention between scolding the distraught damsel, and predicting the future that awaited those who could find nothing better to do than to frighten silly girls out of their wits.
When Constable Flinders had stumbled over a cucumber-frame in the dark, and smashed two panes of glass with the maximum noise, got himself locked in the gardener's shed by mistake, and arrested Charles on his return from a game of billiards with Colonel Ackerley, it was unanimously agreed that his energy should be gently but firmly diverted. In spite of his incorrigible habit of doing the wrong thing they had all of them developed quite an affection for the constable, and it was with great tact that Peter suggested that a watch on the Priory was useless, and that Mr. Flinders would do well to turn his attention to the possible suspects.
The constable, whom only the strongest sense of duty induced to patrol the dread Priory after dark, was not at all hurt, but on the contrary much relieved at being dismissed from his heroic task, and thereafter the Priory saw him no more. Celia, who had been the bitterest in denunciation of his folly, even confessed to missing him. During his guard he had been quite useful in giving her horticultural advice and he had very kindly weeded three of the flower-beds for her, incidentally rooting up a cherished cutting of hydrangea, which he assured her would never flourish in such a spot.
It was not long, however, before they heard of Mr. Flinders' new activities, for Charles encountered Mr. Titmarsh in the village street, and Mr. Titmarsh, catching sight of the constable some way off, remarked fretfully that he did not know what had come over the fellow.
With a wonderful air of blandness Charles inquired the reason of this sudden remark. Mr. Titmarsh said with asperity that the constable was apparently running after his parlour-maid, since he was forever stumbling over him, either waiting by the gate or prowling round the house. "And apparently," said Mr. Titmarsh, "he thinks it necessary to enlist my sympathy by exhibiting a wholly untutored interest in my hobby. He has taken to bringing me common specimens- for my opinion, and last night when I was out with my net I found the man following me. Most irritating performance, and I fear I spoke a little roughly to him. However, it seems he is genuinely anxious to observe the methods I employ, and really it is of no use to lose one's temper with such a simple fellow."
When this was recounted to the others it afforded them considerable amusement, but when Peter said: "I never met such an ass in my life," Charles reproved him. "He's doing well," he said, selecting a walnut from the dish. "Much better than I expected. I admit his Boy Scout stunts are a little obvious, but look at his ready wit! When old Titmarsh discovered him in ambush, did his presence of mind desert him? Not at all. He said he wanted to look for moths too. That's what I call masterly."
"I think myself," said Mrs. Bosanquet, carefully rolling up her table-napkin, "that we were very wise to call him in. Not that I consider him efficient, for I do not, but ever since he took the matter in hand we have heard nothing out of the way in the house. No doubt whoever it was who caused us all the annoyance knows he is on the watch and will trouble us no more."
"No one could fail to know it," said Peter. "During the three days when he sojourned with us he so closely tracked and interrogated everyone who came to the house that the whole countryside must have known that we'd called him in. I'm beginning to feel positively sheepish about it. The villagers are all on the broad grin."
"I don't care what the villagers think," Celia said. "We did the only sensible thing. Other people don't grin. The Colonel told me he thought it was a very wise precaution."
"You didn't tell him why we did it, I hope?" Peter said.
"No, but I don't really see why we should keep it so dark. I merely said we'd heard noises, and Bowers was getting the wind-up so much that something had to be done."
"The reason why we should keep it dark," explained her brother patiently, is, as I've told you at least six times…'
"Seven," said Charles. "This makes the eighth. And I've told her three - no, let me see…'
"Shut up!" said Celia. "I know what you're going to say. If we tell one person he or she will repeat it, and it'll get round to the person who did it all. Well, why not?"
"I should be guided by what your husband says, my dear," said Mrs. Bosanquet. "The least said the better, I am sure. And if the Colonel's coming in to coffee and bridge with you this evening we had better move into the drawing-room, for he may arrive at any moment."
The party accordingly adjourned, and in a few minutes Bowers announced Colonel Ackerley.
"Upon my soul," the Colonel said, accepting the coffee Peter handed him, and a glass of old brandy, "I must say I hope you people won't allow yourselves to be scared away from the Priory. I had almost forgotten what it was like to have any neighbours." He bowed gallantly to Celia. "And such charming ones too." He sipped his liqueur. "It's a great boon to a lonely old bachelor like myself to be able to pop in for a quiet rubber in the evenings."
"Think how nice it is for us to have such a friendly neighbour," Celia smiled. "So often people who live in the country get stuffy, and won't call on newcomers till they've been in the place for years."
"Well, when one has knocked about the world as I have, one gets over all that sort of rubbish!" replied the Colonel. "Never had any use for stand-offishness. Aha, Miss Fortescue, I see you are preparing for the engagement. What do you say? Shall we two join forces and have our revenge on Mr. and Mrs. Malcolm?"
Margaret had swept the cards round in a semi-circle. "Yes, do let's!" she agreed. "We owe them one for our awful defeat last time we played. Shall we cut for seats?"
They took their places at the table, and as the cards were dealt the Colonel bethought himself of something, and said with his ready laugh: "By the way, what have you done with your watch-dog? Give you my word I was expecting him to pounce out on me at any moment, for I strolled across the park to get here."
"Oh, we've diverted him," Charles answered. "Our nerves wouldn't stand it any longer."
"Besides, he's done the trick," Celia said. "Bowers, whose faith in him is really touching, seems to be settling down quite happily. If I did this, I shall say a spade."
The game proceeded in silence for some time, but at the end of the rubber the Colonel reverted to the subject, and cocking a quizzical eyebrow in Charles' direction said: "By the by, Malcolm, have you been setting your sleuth on to old Titmarsh? Oh, you needn't mind telling me! I shan't give you away!"
"We had to get rid of him somehow," Peter said. "So we thought Titmarsh would keep him well occupied."
This seemed to amuse the Colonel considerably, but after his first outburst of laughter he said: "But you don't think old Titmarsh has been playing jokes on you, do you?"