Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (205 page)

"So
you
thought,
I
dare
say,"
put
in
the
Squire.

"No,
it
wasn't
a
case
of
thinking.
The
picture
actually
reminded
me of
what
I'd
seen,
and
I
made
sure
it
was
Oldbourne,
well
before
I
looked
at
the
title."

"Well,
Baxter
had
a
very
fair
idea
of
architecture.
I
dare
say
what's left
made
it
easy
for
him
to
draw
the
right
sort
of
tower."

"That
may
be
it,
of
course,
but
I'm
doubtful
if
even
a
professional could
have
got
it
so
exactly
right.
There's
absolutely
nothing
left
at Fulnaker
but
the
bases
of
the
piers
which
supported
it.
However,
that isn't
the
oddest
thing."

"What
about
Gallows
Hill?"
said
the
Squire.
"Here,
Patten,
listen to
this.
I
told
you
what
Mr.
Fanshawe
said
he
saw
from
the
hill."

"Yes,
Master
Henry,
you
did;
and
I
can't
say
I
was
so
much
surprised,
considering."

"All
right,
all
right.
You
keep
that
till
afterwards.
We
want
to
hear what
Mr.
Fanshawe
saw
to-day.
Go
on,
Fanshawe.
You
turned
to come
back
by
Ackford
and
Thorfield,
I
suppose?"

"Yes,
and
I
looked
into
both
the
churches.
Then
I
got
to
the
turning
which
goes
to
the
top
of
Gallows
Hill;
I
saw
that
if
I
wheeled
my machine
over
the
field
at
the
top
of
the
hill
I
could
join
the
home road
on
this
side.
It
was
about
half-past
six
when
I
got
to
the
top
of the
hill,
and
there
was
a
gate
on
my
right,
where
it
ought
to
be,
leading
into
the
belt
of
plantation."

"You
hear
that,
Patten?
A
belt,
he
says."

"So
I
thought
it
was—a
belt.
But
it
wasn't.
You
were
quite
right, and
I
was
hopelessly
wrong.
I
cannot
understand
it.
The
whole
top
is planted
quite
thick.
Well,
I
went
on
into
this
wood,
wheeling
and dragging
my
bike,
expecting
every
minute
to
come
to
a
clearing,
and then
my
misfortunes
began.
Thorns,
I
suppose;
first
I
realized
that
the front
tyre
was
slack,
then
the
back.
I
couldn't
stop
to
do
more
than try
to
find
the
punctures
and
mark
them;
but
even
that
was
hopeless. So
I
ploughed
on,
and
the
farther
I
went,
the
less
I
liked
the
place."

"Not
much
poaching
in
that
cover,
eh,
Patten?"
said
the
Squire.

"No,
indeed,
Master
Henry:
there's
very
few
cares
to
go
-
"

"No,
I
know:
never
mind
that
now.
Go
on,
Fanshawe."

"I
don't
blame
anybody
for
not
caring
to
go
there.
I
know
I
had
all the
fancies
one
least
likes:
steps
crackling
over
twigs
behind
me,
indistinct
people
stepping
behind
trees
in
front
of
me,
yes,
and
even
a hand
laid
on
my
shoulder.
I
pulled
up
very
sharp
at
that
and
looked round,
but
there
really
was
no
branch
or
bush
that
could
have
done
it. Then,
when
I
was
just
about
at
the
middle
of
the
plot,
I
was
convinced
that
there
was
someone
looking
down
on
me
from
above—and not
with
any
pleasant
intent.
I
stopped
again,
or
at
least
slackened
my pace,
to
look
up.
And
as
I
did,
down
I
came,
and
barked
my
shins abominably
on,
what
do
you
think?
a
block
of
stone
with
a
big
square hole
in
the
top
of
it.
And
within
a
few
paces
there
were
two
others just
like
it.
The
three
were
set
in
a
triangle.
Now,
do
you
make
out what
they
were
put
there
for?"