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Authors: Margery Allingham

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Guffy blinked at him. ‘Of course,' he said. ‘Of course, you don't know. Oh, well, here it is. When we first went to see that unfortunate fellow Galley the man produced an envelope containing, so he said, a page or so from his uncle's diary, and a sheet from the parish register. He was going to show it to us when the clock struck the half-hour, and the sound seemed to bring on his – er – paroxysms. Well, naturally, I forgot about it in the excitement which followed, but apparently Aunt Hatt – that woman has guts, Campion – simply picked it up before she went out. When we came off the boat and went into the “George” at Great Kepesake she produced it. Hal's got it. It's unmistakably genuine.'

The boy came over and unlocked the rosewood bureau in the corner.

‘I've just put it in here for safety,' he said.

Campion took the envelope, and they gathered round the table and pored over its contents.

There were two leaves from the diary, two small discoloured pages written in a ragged, crabbed hand. The first entry was dated June 30th, 1854.

‘Rose early. Cow still sick. Mrs Parritch dropped my best salad bowl and cracked it, so was forced to dismiss her. This evening young Hal from the Hall came to visit me, looking very gallant in his soldier clothes. Gave me twenty guineas (20 gns) to marry him to Miss Mary Fitton of Sweethearting without his mother's knowledge. Felt myself in a quandary, but since he is the heir and I am still a young man, and may live here many more years, I salved my conscience and agreed. Married him at seven o'clock this evening to the girl, Mrs Parritch and her father's man, Branch, standing witness. The little Miss looked peaky. I wonder is she will live to see him back.'

Campion set the page down. This intimate glimpse of another's life so long vanished was sobering even at the end of so much modern turmoil.

The second entry was even more enlightening.

‘January 5th, 1855. Have consented at last to Her Ladyship's way. My conscience pricks me but I see no way out of my dilemma. Hear the poor little Miss is near to death, anyway, at the loss of her man, so it may well be the same in the end for her. Her Ladyship is very bitter. A hard woman. I find myself helpless in her hands. Have taken out leaf from Register and find that I thereby also render Elizabeth Martin and Thos Cowper unmarried in the sight of man, if not in God's sight. Prayed diligently that I should be forgiven my sins. N.B. Have hidden page from Register in cover of
Catullus
, leather bound copy.'

‘There, you see,' said Mary. ‘He was afraid afterwards that his diary might be read, so he took these pages out and hid them with the sheet from the register.'

Campion spread out the last sheet. It was a page from the Church Register. The signatures were faded, but still clear: ‘Hal Huntingforest. Mary Fitton. June 30th, 1854.' And underneath the record of the marriage which had so disturbed the accommodating vicar: ‘Eliz. Martin. Thomas Cowper. Sept. 18th, 1854.'

‘What do you think, Campion?' Hal's young voice was eager. ‘Can we get it proved? We haven't any money, you know.'

Campion glanced up from the documents and grinned.

‘That's all right,' he said. ‘I think we shall find that in view of everything we can get it through without the least difficulty in the world. As for money, the Hereditary Paladin of Averna should come in for a packet. As Pretender, I, Albert, abdicate in favour of thee, Hal, and all that.'

Hal shook hands with him gravely, and Mary slipped her arm through Guffy's.

Eager-Wright put his head round the door.

‘I say, Campion,' he said, ‘half a minute. The sergeant and a patrol have just brought in those two prize idiots, Scatty and Lugg. They've walked from Kepesake. Come and swear to 'em, will you?'

Mr Campion hurried out to the rescue of his henchman. Lugg, lugubrious and sorry for himself, was sitting on the doorstep of the mill with Scatty at his side, while their captors stood round, amused and tolerant.

‘The
army
,' said Mr Lugg, casting a baleful glance at his employer, his voice packed with scorn. ‘The blinking
army
. Can't do a little quiet job without the
army
turning out. It's Yes, mister sergeant, No, mister sergeant, the whole time. I get sick of it. Yes, sir,' he added hastily before the expression in Mr Campion's face. ‘Yes, sir. Come to report, sir. All quiet, sir.'

After satisfying the sergeant Mr Campion turned away. He was unbearably weary. His head was burning, his mouth was dry. The adventure was over, then; the victory complete. He walked slowly upstairs.

As he passed Amanda's room Aunt Hatt came out. She was smiling.

‘She's better, I do believe,' she confided. ‘Quite herself again, but a little weak. Go in and see her. She's anxious to hear that everything's all right.'

Campion went into the gay little room. Amanda, white and a trifle pinched, but very much alive, grinned at him from the bed.

‘Hallo, Orph.,' she said. ‘Come to report to the Lieut? What's the worst?'

‘There isn't any,' he said, sitting down on the end of the bed. ‘This sensational business has come to a successful close, as we say in the board room. The treasure has gone to town in the charge of a minute but magnificent portion of the British army, the missing earl is well on the way to his place in Dod, we're both alive, thanks to you, and I'm half asleep.'

‘Good,' said Amanda and sighed. A spasm of pain passed over her face, and her eyes fluttered open, surprise in their brown depths. ‘It hurts when I do that,' she said. ‘But I'll be all right in a day or two. I'm very healthy, my teeth are good, I never snore, my relations say I have a sweet temper.'

Campion sat looking at her, and she lifted a hand with some difficulty, and laid it on his arm.

‘Don't be frightened,' she said. ‘I'm not proposing marriage to you. But I thought you might consider me as a partner in the business later on. You see, when Hal comes into the estate Scatty and I are going to have a thin time. I don't want to go to a finishing school, you know.'

‘Good Lord, no,' said Campion, aghast at the prospect.

‘That's all,' said Amanda. ‘Get that well into your head.
No higher education for me. I say, do you ever think about Biddy Pagett? You know – Biddy Lobbett.'

Mr Campion, dishevelled, and unbeautifully clad, met her frank enquiring gaze with one of his rare flashes of undisguised honesty.

‘Yes,' he said.

Amanda sighed. ‘I thought so. Look here,' she went on. ‘I shan't be ready for about six years yet. But then – well, I'd like to put you on the top of my list.'

Campion held out his hand with sudden eagerness. ‘Is that a bet?'

Amanda's small cold fingers grasped his own. ‘Done,' she said.

Mr Campion sat where he was for a long time, staring out across the room. His face was expressive, a luxury he scarcely ever permitted himself. At last he rose slowly to his feet and stood looking down very tenderly at this odd little person who had come crashing through one of the most harrowing adventures he had ever known and with unerring instinct had torn open old scars, revived old fires which he had believed extinct.

‘What's going to change you in six years, you rum little grig?' he said slowly.

She did not stir. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were parted, and her breath came regularly and evenly.

Amanda was asleep.

Also available in Vintage
Margery Allingham
M
YSTERY
M
ILE

‘To Albert Campion has fallen the honour of being the first detective to feature in a story which is also by any standard a distinguished novel'

Observer

Judge Crowdy Lobbett has found evidence pointing to the identity of the criminal mastermind behind the deadly Simister gang. After four attempts on his life, he ends up seeking the help of the enigmatic and unorthodox amateur sleuth, Albert Campion.

After Campion bundles Lobbett off to a country house in Mystery Mile deep in the Suffolk countryside, all manner of adventures ensue. It's a race against time for Campion to get the judge to safety and decipher the clue to their mysterious enemy's name. Luckily for Judge Lobbett, underneath his constant stream of nonsensical banter, Campion displays a diamond-sharp intelligence and a natural detective's instinct . . .

‘Miss Allingham's strength lies in her power of characterisation, in her striking talent for painting the social background against which she shows her characters, in her skill in the use of words whereby she paints so vividly the scene she describes'

Guardian

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Epub ISBN: 9781448138036

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Copyright © Rights Limited (a Chorion Company) 1933

Margery Allingham has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

First published in Great Britain by William Heinemann in 1933

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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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