Bat Wing by Sax Rohmer (ereader for android .TXT) 📕

Knox, we are going to escape.”

“To escape?” I cried.

“Precisely. We are going to anticipate the probable movements of our blundering Aylesbury. In short, I wish you to present me to Mr. Colin Camber.”

“What?” I exclaimed, staring at him incredulously.

“I am going to ask you,” he began, and then, breaking off: “Quick, Knox, run!” he said.

And thereupon, to my amazement, he set off through the rhododendron bushes in the direction of the tower!

Utterly unable to grasp the meaning of his behaviour, I followed, nevertheless, and as we rounded the corner of the tower Harley pulled up short, and:

“I am not mad,” he explained rather breathlessly, “but I wanted to avoid being seen by that constable who is prowling about at the bottom of the lawn making signals in the direction of the library. Presumably he is replying to Inspector Aylesbury who wants to talk to us. I am determined to interview Camber before submitting to further official interrogation. It must be a cross-country journey, Knox. I am afraid we shall be a very muddy pair, but great issues may hang upon the success of our expedition.”

He set off briskly toward a belt of shrubbery which marked the edge of the little stream. Appreciating something of his intentions, I followed his lead unquestioningly; and, scrambling through the bushes:

“This was the point at which I descended last night,” he said. “You will have to wade, Knox, but the water is hardly above one’s ankles.”

He dropped into the brook, waded across, and began to climb up the opposite bank. I imitated his movements, and presently, having scrambled up on the farther side, we found ourselves standing on a narrow bank immediately under that summer house which Colin Camber had told me he had formerly used as a study.

“We can scarcely present ourselves at the kitchen door,” murmured Harley; “therefore we must try to find a way round to the front. There is barbed wire here. Be careful.”

I had now entered with zest into the business, and so the pair of us waded through rank grass which in places was waist high, and on through a perfect wilderness of weeds in which nettles dominated. Presently we came to a dry ditch, which we negotiated successfully, to find ourselves upon the high road some hundred yards to the west of the Guest House.

“I predict an unfriendly reception,” I said, panting from my exertions, and surveying my friend, who was a mockery of his ordinarily spruce self.

“We must face it,” he replied, grimly. “He has everything to gain by being civil to us.”

We proceeded along the dusty high road, almost overarched by trees.

“Harley,” I said, “this is going to be a highly unpleasant ordeal for me.”

Harley stopped short, staring at me sternly.

“I know, Knox,” he replied; “but I suppose you realize that a man’s life is at stake.”

“You mean—?”

“I mean that when we are both compelled to tell all we know, I doubt if there is a counsel in the land who would undertake the defence of Mr. Colin Camber.”

“Good God! then you think he is guilty?”

“Did I say so?” asked Harley, continuing on his way. “I don’t recollect saying so, Knox; but I do say that it will be a giant’s task to prove him innocent.”

“Then you believe him to be innocent?” I cried, eagerly.

“My dear fellow,” he replied, somewhat irritably, “I have not yet met Mr. Colin Camber. I will answer your question at the conclusion of the interview.”