His eyes glistened a little.
“Very well, Professor,” assented Battle. “I’m sorry we’re such small fry. I’ll explain to Mr. Lomax. It’s just this one letter that all the hurry is about. Lord Caterham is expecting you to stay for lunch, I believe.”
“Never have lunch,” said the Professor. “Bad habit, lunch. A banana and a water biscuit is all any sane and healthy man should need in the middle of the day.”
He seized his overcoat, which lay across the back of a chair. Battle went round to the front of the house, and a few minutes later Anthony and Virginia heard the sound of a car driving away.
Battle rejoined them, carrying in his hand the half-sheet of paper which the Professor had given him.
“He’s always like that,” said Battle, referring to the departed Professor. “In the very deuce of a hurry. Clever man, though. Well, here’s the kernel of Her Majesty’s letter. Care to have a look at it?”
Virginia stretched out a hand, and Anthony read it over her shoulder. It had been, he remembered, a long epistle, breathing mingled passion and despair. The genius of Professor Wynward had transformed it into an essentially businesslike communication.
Operations carried out successfully, but S. double crossed us. Has removed stone from hiding-place. Not in his room. I have searched. Found following memorandum which I think refers to it: “Richmond Seven Straight Eight Left Three Right.”
“S.?” said Anthony. “Stylptitch, of course. Cunning old dog. He changed the hiding-place.”
“Richmond,” said Virginia thoughtfully. “Is the diamond concealed somewhere at Richmond, I wonder?”
“It’s a favourite spot for royalties,” agreed Anthony.
Battle shook his head.
“I still think it’s a reference to something in this house.”
“I know,” cried Virginia suddenly.
Both men turned to look at her.
“The Holbein portrait in the Council Chamber. They were tapping on the wall just below it. And it’s a portrait of the Earl of Richmond!”
“You’ve got it,” said Battle, and slapped his leg.
He spoke with an animation quite unwonted.
“That’s the starting-point, the picture, and the crooks know no more than we do what the figures refer to. Those two men in armour stand directly underneath the picture, and their first idea was that the diamond was hidden in one of them. The measurements might have been inches. That failed, and their next idea was a secret passage or stairway, or a sliding panel. Do you know of any such thing, Mrs. Revel?”
Virginia shook her head.
“There’s a Priest’s Hole, and at least one secret passage, I know,” she said. “I believe I’ve been shown them once, but I can’t remember much about them now. Here’s Bundle, she’ll know.”
Bundle was coming quickly along the terrace towards them.
“I’m taking the Panhard up to town after lunch,” she remarked. “Anyone want a lift? Wouldn’t you like to come, Mr. Cade? We’ll be back by dinnertime.”
“No, thanks,” said Anthony. “I’m quite happy and busy down here.”
“The man fears me,” said Bundle. “Either my driving or my fatal fascination! Which is it?”
“The latter,” said Anthony. “Every time.”
“Bundle, dear,” said Virginia, “is there any secret passage leading out of the Council Chamber?”
“Rather. But it’s only a mouldy one. Supposed to lead from Chimneys to Wyvvern Abbey. So it did in the old, old days, but it’s all blocked up now. You can only get along it for about a hundred yards from this end. The one upstairs in the White Gallery is ever so much more amusing, and the Priest’s Hole isn’t half bad.”
“We’re not regarding them from an artistic standpoint,” explained Virginia. “It’s business. How do you get into the Council Chamber one?”
“Hinged panel. I’ll show you after lunch if you like.”
“Thank you,” said Superintendent Battle. “Shall we say at 2:30?”
Bundle looked at him with lifted eyebrows.
“Crook stuff?” she inquired.
Tredwell appeared on the terrace.
“Luncheon is served, my lady,” he announced.
XXIII
Encounter in the Rose Garden
At 2:30 a little party met together in the Council Chamber: Bundle, Virginia, Superintendent Battle, M. Lemoine and Anthony Cade.
“No good waiting until we can get hold of Mr. Lomax,” said Battle. “This is the kind of business one wants to get on with quickly.”
“If you’ve got any idea that Prince Michael was murdered by someone who got in this way, you’re wrong,” said Bundle. “It can’t be done. The other end’s blocked completely.”
“There is no question of that, milady,” said Lemoine quickly. “It is quite a different search that we make.”
“Looking for something, are you?” asked Bundle quickly. “Not the historic whatnot, by any chance?”
Lemoine looked puzzled.
“Explain yourself, Bundle,” said Virginia encouragingly. “You can when you try.”
“The thingummybob,” said Bundle. “The historic diamond of purple princes that was pinched in the dark ages before I grew to years of discretion.”
“Who told you this, Lady Eileen?” asked Battle.
“I’ve always known. One of the footmen told me when I was twelve years old.”
“A footman,” said Battle. “Lord! I’d like Mr. Lomax to have heard that!”
“Is it one of George’s closely guarded secrets?” asked Bundle. “How perfectly screaming! I never really thought it was true. George always was an ass—he must know that servants always know everything.”
She went across to the Holbein portrait, touched a spring concealed somewhere at the side of it, and immediately, with a creaking noise, a section of the panelling swung inward, revealing a dark opening.
“Entrez, Messieurs et Mesdames,” said Bundle dramatically. “Walk up, walk up, dearies. Best show of the season, and only a tanner.”
Both Lemoine and Battle were provided with torches. They entered the dark aperture first, the others close on their heels.
“Air’s nice and fresh,” remarked Battle. “Must be ventilated somehow.”
He walked on ahead. The floor was of rough uneven stone, but the walls were bricked. As Bundle had said, the passage extended for a bare hundred yards. Then it came to an abrupt end with a fallen heap of masonry. Battle satisfied himself that there was no way of egress beyond, and then spoke over his shoulder.
“We’ll go back, if you please.
