“Or dead,” said Jane with a sudden shudder.
“Well,” said Dimble, “we must go down.”
And in less than a minute all three walked down into the dingle and past the fire. And there was the tent, and a few miserable attempts at bedding inside it, and a tin plate, and some matches on the ground, and the dottle of a pipe, but they could see no man.
II
“What I can’t understand, Wither,” said Fairy Hardcastle, “is why you don’t let me try my hand on the young pup. All these ideas of yours are so half-hearted—keeping him on his toes about the murder, arresting him, leaving him all night in the cells to think it over. Why do you keep messing about with things that may work or may not?—when twenty minutes of my treatment would turn his mind inside out. I know the type.”
Miss Hardcastle was talking, at about ten o’clock that same wet night, to the Deputy Director in his study. There was a third person present—Professor Frost.
“I assure you, Miss Hardcastle,” said Wither, fixing his eyes not on her but on Frost’s forehead, “you need not doubt that your views on this, or any other matter, will always receive the fullest consideration. But if I may say so, this is one of those cases where—ah—any grave degree of coercive examination might defeat its own end.”
“Why?” said the Fairy sulkily.
“You must excuse me,” said Wither, “for reminding you—not, of course, that I assume you are neglecting the point, but simply on methodological grounds—it is so important to make everything clear—that we need the woman—I mean, that it would be of the greatest value to welcome Mrs. Studdock among us—chiefly on account of the remarkable psychical faculty she is said to possess. In using the word Psychical, I am not, you understand, committing myself to any particular theory.”
“You mean these dreams?”
“It is very doubtful,” said Wither, “what effect it might have on her if she were brought here under compulsion and then found her husband—ah—in the markedly, though no doubt temporarily, abnormal condition which we should have to anticipate as a result of your scientific methods of examination. One would run the risk of a profound emotional disturbance on her part. The faculty itself might disappear; at least for a long time.”
“We have not yet had Major Hardcastle’s report,” said Professor Frost quietly.
“No good,” said the Fairy. “He was shadowed into Northumberland. Only three possible people left the College after him—Lancaster, Lyly, and Dimble. I put them in that order of probability. Lancaster is a Christian, and a very influential man. He’s in the Lower House of Convocation. He had a lot to do with the Repton Conference. He’s mixed up with several big clerical families. And he’s written a lot of books. He has a real stake in their side. Lyly is rather the same type, but less of an organiser. As you will remember, he did a great deal of harm on that reactionary commission about Education last year. Both these are dangerous men. They are the sort of people who get things done—natural leaders of the other party. Dimble is quite a different type. Except that he’s a Christian, there isn’t really much against him. He’s purely academic. I shouldn’t think his name is much known, except to other scholars in his own subject. Not the kind that would make a public man. Impractical . . . he’d be too full of scruples to be much use to them. The others know a thing or two. Lancaster particularly. In fact, he’s a man we could find room for on our own side if he held the right views.”
“You should tell Major Hardcastle that we have access to most of these facts already,” said Professor Frost.
“Perhaps,” said Wither, “in view of the late hour—we don’t wish to overtax your energies, Miss Hardcastle—we might go on to the more strictly narrative parts of your report.”
“Well,” said the Fairy, “I had to follow all three. With the resources I had at the moment. You’ll realise young Studdock was seen setting off for Edgestow only by good luck. It was a bomb-shell. Half my people were already busy on the hospital affair. I just had to lay my hands on anyone I could get. I posted a sentry and had six others out of sight of the College, in plain clothes of course. As soon as Lancaster came out I told off the three best to keep him in sight. I’ve had a wire from them half an hour ago from London where Lancaster went off by train. We may be on to something there. Lyly gave the devil of a lot of trouble. He appeared to be calling on about fifteen different people in Edgestow. We’ve got them all noted—I sent the next two of my lads to deal with him. Dimble came out last. I would have sent my last man off to follow him, but a call came through at that moment from Captain O’Hara, who wanted another car. So I decided to let Dimble go for to-night and sent my man up with the one he had. Dimble can be got any time. He comes into college pretty regularly every day; and he’s really a nonentity.”
“I do not quite understand,” said Frost, “why you had no one inside the College to see what staircase Studdock went to.”
“Because of your damned Emergency Commissioner,” said the Fairy. “We’re not allowed into colleges now, if you please. I said at the time that Feverstone was the wrong man. He’s trying to play on both sides. He’s for us against the town, but when it comes to us against the University he’s unreliable. Mark my words, Wither, you’ll have trouble with him yet.”
Frost looked at the Deputy Director.
“I am far from denying,” said Wither, “though without at all closing my mind to other possible explanations, that some of Lord Feverstone’s measures may have been injudicious. It would be inexpressibly painful to me to suppose that——”
“Need we keep Major Hardcastle?” said Frost.
“Bless my soul!” said Wither. “How very right of you! I had almost forgotten, my dear lady, how tired you must be, and how very valuable your time is. We must try to save you for that particular kind of work in which you have shown yourself indispensable. You must not allow us to impose on your good nature. There is a lot of duller and more routine work which it is only reasonable that you should be spared.” He got up and held the door open for her.
“You don’t think,” said she, “that I ought to let the boys have just a little go at Studdock? I mean, it seems so absurd to have all this trouble about getting an address.”
And suddenly, as Wither stood with his hand on the door-handle, courtly, patient, and smiling, the whole expression faded out of his face. The pale lips, open wide enough to show his gums, the white curly head, the pouchy eyes, ceased to make up any single expression. Miss Hardcastle had the feeling that a mere mask of skin and flesh was staring at her. A moment later and she was gone.
“I wonder,” said Wither as he came back to his chair, “whether we are attaching too much importance to this Studdock woman.”
“We are acting on an order dated the 14th of October,” said Frost.
“Oh . . . I wasn’t questioning it,” said Wither with a gesture of deprecation.
“Allow me to remind you of the facts,” said Frost. “The authorities had access to the woman’s mind for only a very short time. They inspected only one important dream—a dream, which revealed, though with some irrelevancies, an essential element in our programme. That warned us that if the woman fell into the hands of any ill-affected persons who knew how to exploit her faculty, she would constitute a grave danger.”
“Oh, to be sure, to be sure. I never intended to deny——”
“That was the first point,” said Frost, interrupting him. “The second is that her mind became opaque to our authorities almost immediately afterwards. In the present state of our science we know only one cause for such occultations. They occur when the mind in question has placed itself,