"Well, Dr. Parker," said our hostess gravely, as we reentered the library, "I have several orders for books here and I only hope I shall be able to explain satisfactorily why they are not for sale when the would-be purchasers call again."
"I am afraid we have put you to some inconvenience, Miss Stuart. But I am sure Solar Pons would not have suggested this arrangement without good cause."
The girl flashed me a brief smile.
"I am certain you are right, Dr. Parker. Now, I think we have earned a glass of sherry."
She went over to pour while I unlocked and opened the French windows, letting sweet-scented air and the cheerful song of birds into the somewhat stuffy study. As I came back down the room, I went to the Bible, which was apparently the source of so much mystery, and took it down from the shelf. I opened it and went through the slips of paper at the back. I felt a tingle of excitement as I reexamined them more thoroughly.
"Good heavens! The Bible verses are missing."
"I should be extremely disappointed if they were not, my dear fellow."
Solar Pons was regarding me from the open study door, his eyes bright and alert. He rubbed his slender hands together as he came over to join us. Miss Stuart poured him a glass of sherry and we moved instinctively toward the dining room.
"Dinner will be served almost immediately, gentlemen," said our hostess. "I will not ask any further questions tonight. I hope you are hungry, as Hannah has prepared something special."
"We must do justice to it, Parker," said Solar Pons, his eyes twinkling over the rim of his glass. "We can do nothing until after dark but we must be in position not later than 10:30 P.M."
Miss Stuart smiled wryly.
"Well, I do not know what you propose, Mr. Pons, but I drink most heartily to your success."
We all three raised our glasses.
8
I shifted my cramped position, my muscles cracking with the unwonted movement. Solar Pons put his hands to his lips in warning.
"We must just be patient, Parker. Our man is cunning and persistent. And he is extremely dangerous. You have your pistol?"
I nodded.
"You are certain he will come, Pons?" I whispered.
"I would stake my reputation on it, Parker. He has no reason for suspicion and we now know he has his hands on the thing he most covets."
"But will he read it aright, Pons?"
Pons smiled a thin smile in the moonlight, which straggled through a stained glass window far above our heads. We crouched in the shadow of a large statuary group in the side chapel of the church, facing the entrance. All was silent apart from the deep chime of the clock which told the passing of the hours. It was almost midnight and for the past hour the entire village of Grassington seemed to have been asleep. Not even the distant rumble of a passing motor vehicle had disturbed our vigil.
"Our man will read the message correctly, Parker. He knew what he was looking for before he ever came to The Old Rectory. It is hardly likely that he would not know the simple code employed."
I shook my head.
"Perhaps, Pons. But I must confess I am baffled. Any of those people tonight could have been the man in question. But all of them had something suspicious about them if one read their actions a certain way."
Pons inclined his head.
"There is something of the eccentric in every collector of whatever type, Parker. It is endemic to the breed."
He broke off, his whole form rigid, his head forward in a listening attitude. I had heard nothing and opened my mouth to make some rejoinder when he stopped me by putting his hand on my arm. Then I heard what his sensitive ear had already caught. A faint creaking noise from somewhere far off in the church. It ceased and the silence resumed.
Pons moved over and put his mouth up against my ear. "He has entered through a side door, Parker. An artist with a crowbar, evidently."
I eased my cramped legs and drew the pistol from my pocket, throwing off the safety catch and laying it down carefully on the cool stone flags at my side.
"I am quite ready, Pons."
We waited for a few minutes more, sitting immobile, straining our ears to catch the slightest noise. Then I caught the scrape of a boot on the flagstones somewhere in the main body of the church.
I was unable to conceal a slight start at a vague shadow sliding through the moonlight which dappled the interior of the have. I saw by Pons' expression that he had already noted it. I reached out silently and picked up the loaded revolver, holding it ready on my lap. My companion had his flashlight at the ready as the dark, stealthy figure drew nearer, moving with the utmost caution and circumspection. There was something almost obscene about this furtive intruder into this holy place at dead of night.
We both moved tighter into the wall in the deepest part of the shadow but our precautions were not needed; the figure that advanced through the chapel entrance on tiptoe, holding a slip of paper in his hand, was far too preoccupied to give more than a casual glance at his surroundings. He stopped still, as though deep in thought, then turned to-Ward us.
A shaft of moonlight spilling through the glass of one of the upper windows of the church fell clear upon his features and I could not repress a slight shudder. I felt Pons' fingers tighten on my arm and I lifted my pistol so as to be ready for any eventuality. The evil yellow face with the thick beard and burning eyes stared round menacingly and I understood for the first time what an ordeal Miss Stuart must have gone through.
I had no doubt in my own mind that this was the library intruder surprised by both her and her mother, and the shock must have been severe indeed under the circumstances. Even here, with Pons at my side and the comforting feel of the revolver butt against my palm, the face exuded such menace that I felt the perspiration start out on my forehead.
The figure let fall an exclamation and then paced excitedly about, studying the flagstones. It went past the memorial to the children of which Pons had made so notable a use and then measured out the identical path already followed by my companion. The intruder knelt with another muffled gasp and I heard the chink of metal, then a low grating noise, as he started to lever up the flagstone.
It was just at that moment that there came a loud noise at the front door of the church. Pons swore under his breath and let go of my arm. The crouching figure by the open hole in the chapel floor gave a convulsive leap into the air. He reached into his hip pocket as the beam of Pons' flashlight danced out to settle on that horrific face. The man gave a snarl of rage and raised his hand.
"Quickly, Parker!" Pons snapped.
I was already on my feet, bringing the pistol up. I squeezed the trigger, the flash of flame from the muzzle seeming to light the church interior, while the report echoed thunderously under the vaulting. It had aimed for the shoulder and my aim was true. The figure spun, clutching his left hand to his right forearm, and something clattered to the floor.
The front door of the church thundered back on its hinges as the bearded man blundered into some wooden chairs in the aisle of the church. I was already racing after him but Pons was quicker still. Our quarry was up near the door when Pons brought him down with a running tackle. The two men landed asprawl at the feet of the gigantic Rector of Grassington, the Rev. Isaac Stokesby.
Eyes wide, he stared at the amazing tableau before him, while my flashlight beam continued to dance over the two struggling men on the floor. The Rector moved to a light switch and the interior Of the church was filled with mellow radiance. The Rev. Stokesby's jaw dropped and his face was mottled with anger.