Pons crossed over to the far bookshelves and checked the Bible we had replaced there. Then he closed and locked the French windows, locking the bolts for good measure. He glanced around the room, as though setting the scene.
"Let me just recapitulate. The newspaper reaches Grassington in a quarter of an hour or a little after. If our man is as alert as I think him, we might expect him as early as seven o'clock. Though he may not take the bait until tomorrow."
He crossed over toward the door.
"Oh, by the way, any telephone calls you may regard as being from genuine dealers. Those in which the callers require appointments for tomorrow or succeeding days I should certainly class as bona fide and pass them on to Miss Stuart."
"Very well, Pons. What will you be doing?"
"I shall remain in my room, Parker, where I shall have a very good view of people walking up the front path without myself being observed. It would not do for our man to connect me with the energetic walker of this afternoon."
I could not repress a faint snort of impatience.
"Very well, Pons. No doubt this will ali become clear in time."
"No doubt, Parker. I trust you to play your part."
Solar Pons left the room swiftly and I heard his quick, athletic tread on the stairs. He had no sooner closed the door of his chamber when I heard the shrill of the telephone from the hall outside. A few moments later the face of Hannah, the housekeeper, appeared nervously at the library door.
"Some London book dealers, sir. Shall I fetch Miss Stuart?"
I nodded and went to pick up the receiver.
"Brackett and Prall of Pall Mall here, sir," said the bland voice at the other end. "Your advertisement in the Surrey Observer has been brought to our attention by a dealer in Guildford. Would it be convenient for us to arrange an appointment for tomorrow morning?"
I found Miss Stuart at my elbow and thankfully relinquished the instrument. I went back into the library and sat down at the table by the window. I attempted to read a book but I confess my mind was not on the lines. My purpose there in the library; the black mystery surrounding the death of our client's father; the bearded man who seemed to haunt the Rectory and grounds; the stolen hoard of silver buried in the church vault; and the responsibility Pons had placed upon me all combined to set my brain whirling.
I got up after a while and paced up and down the pleasant library, my mood widely at variance with the mellow sunlight which streamed through the windows. Twice more the telephone jangled in the hall outside and then Miss Stuart put her head around the door to say that two more rare book dealers hoped to come the following day.
It was almost seven o'clock when the front doorbell rang. I was just going out when Hannah crossed the hall in front of me, a tall, familiar figure behind her. He smiled somewhat crookedly at me.
"Ah, Dr. Parker, I saw the advertisement in the paper just now. Miss Stuart told me nothing about selling up her father's books."
"It was a sudden whim," I explained. "Please go in and browse about at your leisure."
"Thank you, Doctor."
I watched Major Alan Kemp cross the hall with his firm, athletic stride and disappear within the study. I was about to join him when there came another ring at the doorbell. Hannah looked at me with widening eyes.
"Allow me this time," I said.
I opened the door to reveal the massive, bearded face of the Rector, the Rev. Isaac Stokesby. He wore a neat gray suit with his clerical collar beneath and he seemed considerably surprised to see me. He waved a copy of the Surrey Observer in my face.
"I have just seen Miss Stuart's advertisement, Doctor. It seemed to me a good opportunity to add some ecclesiastical volumes to the church library. I trust it is not inconvenient…?"
"By no means, Rector. Do come in. You know the study. You will find Major Kemp already there."
"Indeed," said Stokesby coolly.
He hesitated, as though he would have changed his mind but apparently thought better of it.
"Perhaps you would be good enough to tell her I am here."
"I will tell Miss Stuart," I said.
When I returned with our client two other visitors had called; they were already in the study. I smiled encouragingly at Miss Stuart.
"It seems Mr. Pons' stratagem has proved effective, Dr. Parker."
I nodded.
"There is usually very sound method behind his even more extravagant actions, Miss Stuart. Will you join them in the library."
"Let us both go, Doctor."
"As you wish."
As we entered the handsome room with the mellow rays of gold pouring in from the garden outside, the study seemed like nothing more than a public library. Two gentlemen in gray suits were examining volumes on the table and talking in hushed tones. The Rev. Stokesby had the locked bookcase open and was handling a leather-bound Bible reverently. I could not see the major for a moment but then saw him up near the French windows where Pons and I had replaced the Bible with its corrupt texts.
Miss Stuart hurried forward and was soon engaged in animated conversation with her guests. I was about to join her when there came yet another ring at the front door. This time the caller was a small, dapper gentleman, impeccably dressed in a dark suit and wearing lavender-colored gloves. He smiled amiably and searched in his pocket, as though looking for a card.
"Dear me, I seem to have forgotten them. Jethro Carpenter. Rare book dealer at your service. Would it be possible to view the collection mentioned in the advertisement?"
"By all means," I said. "Your colleagues are already in the library."
I led the way through and introduced the fifth man to the assembly. The room now seemed crowded and as the conversation proceeded I was able to study the other two men who had been admitted by Hannah.
One was a snort, bearded man with a pronounced limp, named Judson Higgins. Though well dressed in expensive clothes and wearing white gloves, there was something sly and furtive in his appearance which I didn't take to. He had cold gray eyes beneath his whitening eyebrows and his thick hair was liberally dusted with silver. He had a high, mincing pedantic voice and was engaged in a shrill altercation with his companion.
This was a giant with red hair and a carefully trimmed moustache. He was about thirty-five years old and very strong and vigorous. But his eyes blinked mildly beneath his thick-lensed glasses with tortoise-shell frames and he seemed more amused than otherwise at his colleague's comments on the quality of the books in the late Rector's library.
The Rev. Isaac Stokesby stood near Miss Stuart up near the empty fireplace, his dark eyes regarding the scene before him in an almost contemplative manner. The major stood on the other side of our client and seemed about to say something but was unable to gain her attention.
Jethro Carpenter contented himself with inclining his head to the company and then darted swiftly forward to the bookcase at the far end of the room, which I understood contained the rare volumes. I declined to join in the conversation but, mindful of Pons' strictures, tried to observe without appearing to take any notice.
I kept away from the bookcase near the window and as the housekeeper served coffee and cookies to the guests an hour later, it was obvious that everyone in the room had had ample opportunity, at one time or another, to approach the Bible containing the message unobserved. The shelving was so arranged that it concealed the browser from the people standing near the fireplace; though that corner of the room was clearly in view from the French windows.
It was nearly nine o'clock before the last of the visitors had departed; no one else had come and it was with some relief that Miss Stuart and I exchanged glances as Hannah showed the last of the bibliophiles to the door. This was the Rector, and I retained an impression of his sardonic, bearded face, the beard tinted gold with the dying sun as he hurried through the garden.