Then
he was sure that he heard them. William Smith had kept his word.
Then the noises ceased for a period, and then they recommenced.
Sir Jee restrained his curiosity as long as he could, and when he
could restrain it no more he rose and silently opened his bedroom
window and put his head out into the nipping night air of
Christmas. And by good fortune he saw the vast oblong of the
picture, carefully enveloped in sheets, being passed by a couple
of dark figures through the dining-room window to the garden
outside. William Smith had a colleague, then, and he was taking
the frame as well as the canvas. Sir Jee watched the men disappear
down the avenue, and they did not reappear. Sir Jee returned to
bed.
Yes, he felt himself equal to facing it out with his family and
friends. He felt himself equal to pretending that he had no
knowledge of the burglary.
Having slept a few hours, he got up early and, half-dressed,
descended to the dining-room just to see what sort of a mess
William Smith had made.
The canvas of the portrait lay flat on the hearthrug, with the
following words written on it in chalk: 'This is no use to me.' It
was the massive gold frame that had gone.
Further, as was later discovered, all the silver had gone. Not a
spoon was left in the castle.
NEWS OF THE ENGAGEMENT
My mother never came to meet me at Bursley station when I arrived
in the Five Towns from London; much less did she come as far as
Knype station, which is the great traffic centre of the district,
the point at which one changes from the express into the local
train.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152