pleasant lines. Dorothy sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking straight ahead….
Rampole had not been to the railway station since he had arrived in that other age ten days ago. The Daimler fled along the curves of the road, its siren crying ahead. Chatterham prison fell away behind; they seemed more in touch with reality now. Up over the waves of corn rose the small brick station, and the rails were shimmering against a low, dull, yellow-gleaming sunset. The lamps along the platform had not yet been lighted, but there was a green-shaded light in the ticket window of the station. Dogs were barking, just as on that first night….
As Sir Benjamin stopped the car they heard, far down the tracks, the thin whistle of the train.
Rampole started. Stumbling on his canes, Dr. Fell had lurched out of the car. He wore his old black slouch-hat and box-pleated cape, which made him seem like a fat bandit; and a breeze waved the black ribbon on his eyeglasses.
'Now, listen,' he said. 'Stay with me. The only instructions I have are for you.' He looked fiercely at Sir Benjamin. 'I warn you that you may have a temptation. But, whatever you see or hear, for God's sake don't speak! Do you understand?' He was glaring now.
'As chief constable of this county?' Sir Benjamin was beginning, snapping the words out, when the doctor cut him short.
'Here comes the train. Walk up to the platform with me.'
They could hear the thin, faint, clicking roar. It was rushing through Rampole's nerves now. He felt as though he were one of a herd of chickens being shooed into a pen by Dr. Fell. The headlight of the locomotive winked around a curve among the trees; the rails were shimmering, and they had begun to hum…. '
A stationmaster pulled open the door of the baggage-room with a long screech, emitting light on the boards of the platform. Rampole glanced in that direction. Against the eeriness of the dim yellow sky he saw a motionless figure standing near the station. Then, with a shock, he saw that there were several of these motionless figures in corners about the platform. All of them had their hands in the side pockets of their coats.
He turned sharply. Dorothy Starberth was at his side, staring up the tracks. The rector, his blue eyes pinched up, was swabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief, and seemed about to speak. Sir Benjamin looked sourly at the ticket window.
Swaying in a gush of cinders, the small train ground in to a stop, its headlight enormous now. There was a heavy sigh from the engine, and it panted in puffs of steam. A white lamp winked on over the entrance to the station. Past the yellow, grimed windows of the train there were flickers as of people moving out. The only noise was a subdued clanking, above the rumble of the baggage truck.
'There…' said Dr. Fell.
One passenger was alighting now. Rampole could not see his face because of the conflicting lights and the heavy backwash of steam. Then the passenger moved under the white station light, and the American stared…
He had never seen this man before. At the same time, he was conscious that one of the motionless men about the platform, his hand still in his pocket, had moved closer. But he was looking at this curious person from the train: a tall man, with an old-fashioned square derby and a grey moustache clipped sharp about a strong brown chin. The stranger hesitated, swinging a large valise from his right hand to his left….
'There,' repeated Dr. Fell. He seized the rector's arm. 'You see him? Who is he?'
The rector turned a puzzled face. He said: 'You must be mad! I never saw him before. What on earth-?'
'Ah,' said Dr. Fell. His voice suddenly grew louder. It seemed to boom and echo along the platform. 'You don't recognize him. But you should, Mr. Saunders; you should.
He's your uncle.'
During an enormous silence one of the motionless men came up behind and put his hand on the rector's shoulder.
He said: 'Thomas Saunders, I arrest you for the murder of Martin Starberth. I have to warn you that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence against you.'
He had taken his other hand out of his pocket, and it held a revolver. Rampole, even while his wits were whirling, saw that the motionless men were closing in, silently, from all corners of the platform.
Chapter 17
The rector did not move, nor did his expression change. He continued to swab at his forehead with the handkerchief, that old trick of his; large and black-clad and comfortable, with his gold watch-chain swinging. But his blue eyes seemed to have shrunk. Not narrowed, but shrunk, as though they had really grown smaller. He was mustering up unction, ease, fluency, Rampole felt, as a man takes a deep inhalation before a swim underwater.
He said:
'This is absurd. I hope you realise that. But,' a polite gesture, with the handkerchief, 'we seem to be — ah — attracting some attention. I suppose you gentlemen are all detectives; even if you are so mad as to arrest me, you hardly needed so large a force…. There's a crowd gathering!' he added, in a lower and angrier tone. 'If you must keep your hand on my shoulder, let's go back to Sir Benjamin's car.'
The man who had arrested him, a taciturn-looking person with heavy lines in his face, looked at Dr. Fell.
'This is the man, sir?' he asked.
'It's all right, Inspector,' answered the doctor. 'That's the man. You may as well do as he suggests.- Sir Benjamin, you see that man on the platform. You recognize him?'
'Good Lord, yes!' exclaimed the chief constable. 'It's Bob Saunders, right enough. He's older than when I knew him, but I should recognize him anywhere…. But I say, Fell!' He was sputtering like a boiling kettle. 'You can't possibly mean — the rector — Saunders-!'
'His name isn't Saunders,' said the doctor, composedly. 'And I'm fairly sure he isn't a clergyman. Anyhow, you recognize the uncle. I was afraid you would blurt out something before I could enquire. There was always a chance, that the bogus Saunders would resemble the real rector.
“Inspector Jennings, I suggest you take your prisoner over to that grey automobile on the other side of the road. Sir Benjamin, you might meet your old friend before the rest of us do. Tell him as much or as little as you like, and then join us.'
Saunders took off his hat and fanned himself with it.
'Then you are behind this, Doctor?' he enquired, almost genially. 'I — er — it surprises me. It even shocks me. I do not like you, Doctor Fell. Gentlemen, come along. You needn't keep hold of my arm, Inspector. I assure you I have no intention of running away.'
In the darkening light, the little party moved across to the Daimler. Inspector Jennings turned his neck as though on a slow pivot.
'I thought I should bring a few of the men along with me, sir,' he said to Dr. Fell. 'You said he was a killer.'
The ugly word, unemotionally spoken, caused a hush which was broken only by the plodding of large feet. Rampole, walking behind the rest of them with Dorothy, stared at the large back of the rector moving in confident strides. The bald spot on Saunders' head shone out of the fluff of yellowish hair. He heard Saunders laugh….
They put the prisoner in the tonneau of the car. Spreading himself comfortably, the rector drew a deep breath. The word 'killer' was still sounding faintly in their ears. Saunders seemed to know it. His eyes moved slowly over them, and he was meticulously folding and unfolding his handkerchief. It was as though he were putting on pieces of armour.
'Now, then, gentlemen,' he remarked, 'pray let's make this appear to be a pleasant little chat in the rear of a motor-car…. What, precisely, is the charge against me?'
'By God!' said Dr. Fell, striking the side of the car admiringly, 'it's damned good, Saunders! — You heard the Inspector. Officially you are charged only with the murder of Martin Starberth. Eh?'
'Quite,' agreed the rector, nodding slowly. 'I am glad I have such a group of witnesses about me Before I say anything, Inspector, this is your last chance. Are you sure you want to proceed with this arrest?'
'Those are my instructions, sir.'
