Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (210 page)

or
more.
There
was
a
lot of
people
said
he
was
called
off
on
business,
or
made
off
because
he'd got
into
some
scrape,
but
he
was
well
known
for
miles
round,
and none
of
the
railway-people
nor
the
public-house
people
hadn't
seen him;
and
then
ponds
was
looked
into
and
nothink
found;
and
at
last one
evening
Fakes
the
keeper
come
down
from
over
the
hill
to
the village,
and
he
says
he
seen
the
Gallows
Hill
planting
black
with
birds, and
that
were
a
funny
tiling,
because
he
never
see
no
sign
of
a
creature
there
in
his
time.
So
they
looked
at
each
other
a
bit,
and
first
one says:
'I'm
game
to
go
up,'
and
another
says:
'So
am
I,
if
you
are,'
and half
a
dozen
of
'em
set
out
in
the
evening
time,
and
took
Dr.
Lawrence
with
them,
and
you
know,
Master
Henry,
there
he
was
between them
three
stones
with
his
neck
broke."

Useless
to
imagine
the
talk
which
this
story
set
going.
It
is
not remembered.
But
before
Patten
left
them,
he
said
to
Fanshawe:
"Excuse
me,
sir,
but
did
I
understand
as
you
took
out
them
glasses
with you
to-day?
I
thought
you
did;
and
might
I
ask,
did
you
make
use
of them
at
all?"

"Yes.
Only
to
look
at
something
in
a
church."

"Oh,
indeed,
you
took
'em
into
the
church,
did
you,
sir?"

"Yes,
I
did;
it
was
Lambsfield
church.
By
the
way,
I
left
them strapped
on
to
my
bicycle,
I'm
afraid,
in
the
stable-yard."

"No
matter
for
that,
sir.
I
can
bring
them
in
the
first
thing
tomorrow,
and
perhaps
you'll
be
so
good
as
to
look
at
'em
then."

Accordingly,
before
breakfast,
after
a
tranquil
and
well-earned
sleep, Fanshawe
took
the
glasses
into
the
garden
and
directed
them
to
a distant
hill.
He
lowered
them
instantly,
and
looked
at
top
and
bottom,
worked
the
screws,
tried
them
again
and
yet
again,
shrugged
his shoulders
and
replaced
them
on
the
hall-table.

"Patten,"
he
said,
"they're
absolutely
useless.
I
can't
see
a
thing:
it's as
if
someone
had
stuck
a
black
wafer
over
the
lens."

"Spoilt
my
glasses,
have
you?"
said
the
Squire.
"Thank
you:
the only
ones
I've
got."

"You
try
them
yourself,"
said
Fanshaw.
"I've
done
nothing
to them."

So
after
breakfast
the
Squire
took
them
out
to
the
terrace
and stood
on
the
steps.
After
a
few
ineffectual
attemps,
"Lord,
how
heavy they
are!"
he
said
impatiently,
and
in
the
same
instant
dropped
them on
to
the
stones,
and
the
lens
splintered
and
the
barrel
cracked:
a little
pool
of
liquid
formed
on
the
stone
slab.
It
was
inky
black,
and the
odour
that
rose
from
it
is
not
to
be
described.