I
    At the receipt of custom behind the bar sat Miss Benjafield,stately as ever, relaxing her massive mind over a penny novelette.

　　'Who was the man who just left, Miss Benjafield?' I asked.

　　She marked the place with a shapely thumb and looked up.

　　'The man? Oh, _him_! He's--why, weren't you in here, Mr Burns,one evening in January when--'

　　'That American?'

　　'That's him. What he's doing here I don't know. He disappearedquite a while back, and I haven't seen him since. _Nor_ want.

　　Tonight up he turns again like a bad ha'penny. I'd like to knowwhat he's after. No good, if you ask _me_.'

　　Miss Benjafield's prejudices did not easily dissolve. She pridedherself, as she frequently observed, on knowing her own mind.

　　'Is he staying here?'

　　'Not at the "Feathers". We're particular who we have here.'

　　I thanked her for the implied compliment, ordered beer for thegood of the house, and, lighting a pipe, sat down to meditate onthis new development.

　　The vultures were gathered together with a vengeance. Sam within,Buck without, it was quite like old times, with the differencethat now, I, too, was on the wrong side of the school door.

　　It was not hard to account for Buck's reappearance. He would, ofcourse, have made it his business to get early information of MrFord's movements. It would be easy for him to discover that themillionaire had been called away to the north and that the Nuggetwas still an inmate of Sanstead House. And here he was preparingfor the grand attack.

　　I had been premature in removing Buck's name from the list ofactive combatants. Broken legs mend. I ought to have rememberedthat.

　　His presence on the scene made, I perceived, a vast difference tomy plan of campaign. It was at this point that my purchase of theBrowning pistol lost its absurdity and appeared in the light of anacute strategic move. With Sam the only menace, I had beenprepared to play a purely waiting game, watching proceedings fromafar, ready to give my help if necessary. To check Buck, morestrenuous methods were called for.

　　My mind was made up. With Buck, that stout disciple of the frontalattack, in the field, there was only one place for me. I must getinto Sanstead House and stay there on guard.

　　Did he intend to make an offensive movement tonight? That was thequestion which occupied my mind. From the point of view of anopponent, there was this merit about Mr MacGinnis, that he wasnot subtle. He could be counted on with fair certainty to dothe direct thing. Sooner or later he would make another of hisvigorous frontal attacks upon the stronghold. The only point to bedecided was whether he would make it that night. Would professionalzeal cause him to omit his beauty sleep?

　　I did not relish the idea of spending the night patrolling thegrounds, but it was imperative that the house be protected. Thenit occurred to me that the man for the vigil was Smooth Sam. Ifthe arrival of Mr MacGinnis had complicated matters in one way, ithad simplified them in another, for there was no more need for thesecrecy which had been, till now, the basis of my plan of action.

　　Buck's arrival made it possible for me to come out and fight inthe open, instead of brooding over Sanstead House from afar like aProvidence. Tomorrow I proposed to turn Sam out. Tonight I would usehim. The thing had resolved itself into a triangular tournament,and Sam and Buck should play the first game.

　　Once more I called up the house on the telephone. There was a longdelay before a reply came. It was Mr Fisher's voice that spoke.

　　Audrey, apparently, had not returned to the house immediatelyafter leaving me.

　　'Hullo!' said Sam.

　　'Good evening, Mr Fisher.'

　　'Gee! Is that you, young fellow-me-lad? Are you speaking fromLondon?'

　　'No. I am at the "Feathers".'

　　He chuckled richly.

　　'Can't tear yourself away? Hat still in the ring? Say, what's theuse? Why not turn it up, sonny? You're only wasting your time.'

　　'Do you sleep lightly, Mr Fisher?'

　　'I don't get you.'

　　'You had better do so tonight. Buck MacGinnis is back again.'

　　There was silence at the other end of the wire. Then I heard himswear softly. The significance of the information had not beenlost on Mr Fisher.

　　'Is that straight?'

　　'It is.'

　　'You're not stringing me?'

　　'Certainly not.'

　　'You're sure it was Buck?'

　　'Is Buck's the sort of face one forgets?'

　　He swore again.

　　'You seem disturbed,' I said.

　　'Where did you see him?' asked Sam.

　　'Coming out of the "Feathers", looking very fierce and determined.

　　The Berserk blood of the MacGinnises is up. He's going to do ordie. I'm afraid this means an all-night sitting for you, MrFisher.'

　　'I thought you had put him out of business!'

　　There was a somewhat querulous note in his voice.

　　'Only temporarily. I did my best, but he wasn't even limping whenI saw him.'

　　He did not speak for a moment. I gathered that he was ponderingover the new development.

　　'Thanks for tipping me off, sonny. It's a thing worth knowing. Whydid you do it?'

　　'Because I love you, Samuel. Good night.'

　　I rose late and breakfasted at my leisure. The peace of theEnglish country inn enveloped me as I tilted back my chair andsmoked the first pipe of the morning. It was a day to hearten aman for great deeds, one of those days of premature summer whichcomes sometimes to help us bear the chill winds of early spring.

　　The sun streamed in through the open window. In the yard belowfowls made their soothing music. The thought of violence seemedvery alien to such a morning.

　　I strolled out into the Square. I was in no hurry to end thisinterlude of peace and embark on what, for all practical purposes,would be a siege.

　　After lunch, I decided, would be time enough to begin activecampaigning.

　　The clock on the church tower was striking two as I set forth,carrying my suit-case, on my way to the school. The light-heartednessof the morning still lingered with me. I was amused at the thoughtof the surprise I was about to give Mr Fisher. That wink stillrankled.

　　As I made my way through the grounds I saw Audrey in the distance,walking with the Nugget. I avoided them and went on into thehouse.

　　About the house there was the same air of enchanted quiet whichpervaded the grounds. Perhaps the stillness indoors was even moreinsistent. I had grown so accustomed to the never-ending noise andbustle of the boys' quarters that, as I crossed the silent hall, Ihad an almost guilty sense of intrusion. I felt like a burglar.

　　Sam, the object of my visit, would, I imagined, if he were in thehouse at all, be in the housekeeper's room, a cosy little apartmentoff the passage leading to the kitchen. I decided to draw thatfirst, and was rewarded, on pushing open the half-closed door, bythe sight of a pair of black-trousered legs stretched out before mefrom the depths of a wicker-work armchair. His portly middlesection, rising beyond like a small hill, heaved rhythmically. Hisface was covered with a silk handkerchief, from beneath which came,in even succession, faint and comfortable snores. It was a peacefulpicture--the good man taking his rest; and for me it had an addedattractiveness in that it suggested that Sam was doing by day whatmy information had prevented him from doing in the night. It hadbeen some small consolation to me, as I lay trying to compose myanxious mind for sleep on the previous night, that Mr Fisher alsowas keeping his vigil.

　　Pleasing as Sam was as a study in still life, pressure of businesscompelled me to stir him into activity. I prodded him gently inthe centre of the rising territory beyond the black trousers. Hegrunted discontentedly and sat up. The handkerchief fell from hisface, and he blinked at me, first with the dazed glassiness of thenewly awakened, then with a 'Soul's Awakening' expression, whichspread over his face until it melted into a friendly smile.

　　'Hello, young man!'

　　'Good afternoon. You seem tired.'

　　He yawned cavernously.

　　'Lord! What a night!'

　　'Did Buck drop in?'

　　'No, but I thought he had every time I heard a board creak. Ididn't dare close my eyes for a minute. Have you ever stayed awakeall night, waiting for the goblins that get you if you don't watchout? Well, take it from me it's no picnic.'

　　His face split in another mammoth yawn. He threw his heart intoit, as if life held no other tasks for him. Only in alligatorshave I ever seen its equal.

　　I waited till the seismic upheaval had spent itself. Then I cameto business.

　　'I'm sorry you had a disturbed night, Mr Fisher. You must make upfor it this afternoon. You will find the beds very comfortable.'

　　'How's that?'

　　'At the "Feathers". I should go there, if I were you. The chargesare quite reasonable, and the food is good. You will like the"Feathers".'

　　'I don't get you, sonny.'

　　'I was trying to break it gently to you that you are about to movefrom this house. Now. At once. Take your last glimpse of the oldhome, Sam, and out into the hard world.'

　　He looked at me inquiringly.

　　'You seem to be talking, young man; words appear to be flutteringfrom you; but your meaning, if any, escapes me.'

　　'My meaning is that I am about to turn you out. I am coming backhere, and there is not room for both of us. So, if you do not seeyour way to going quietly, I shall take you by the back of theneck and run you out. Do I make myself fairly clear now?'

　　He permitted himself a rich chuckle.

　　'You have gall, young man. Well, I hate to seem unfriendly. I likeyou, sonny. You amuse me--but there are moments when one wants tobe alone. I have a whole heap of arrears of sleep to make up. Trotalong, kiddo, and quit disturbing uncle. Tie a string to yourselfand disappear. Bye-bye.'

　　The wicker-work creaked as he settled his stout body. He picked upthe handkerchief.

　　'Mr Fisher,' I said, 'I have no wish to propel your grey hairs ata rapid run down the drive, so I will explain further. I amphysically stronger than you. I mean to turn you out. How can youprevent it? Mr Abney is away. You can't appeal to him. The policeare at the end of the telephone, but you can't appeal to them. Sowhat _can_ you do, except go? Do you get me now?'

　　He regarded the situation in thoughtful silence. He allowed noemotion to find expression in his face, but I knew that thesignificance of my remarks had sunk in. I could almost follow hismind as he tested my position point by point and found itimpregnable.

　　When he spoke it was to accept defeat jauntily.

　　'You _are_ my jinx, young man. I said it all along. You'rereally set on my going? Say no more. I'll go. After all, it'squiet at the inn, and what more does a man want at my time oflife?'

　　I went out into the garden to interview Audrey.

　　She was walking up and down on the tennis-lawn. The Nugget,lounging in a deck-chair, appeared to be asleep.

　　She caught sight of me as I came out from the belt of trees, andstopped. I had the trying experience of walking across opencountry under hostile observation.

　　The routing of Sam had left me alert and self-confident. I felt noembarrassment. I greeted her briskly.

　　'Good afternoon. I have been talking to Sam Fisher. If you wait,you will see him passing away down the drive. He is leaving thehouse. I am coming back.'

　　'Coming back?'

　　She spoke incredulously, or, rather, as if my words had conveyedno meaning. It was so that Sam had spoken. Her mind, like his,took time to adjust itself to the unexpected.

　　She seemed to awake to my meaning with a start.

　　'Coming back?' Her eyes widened. The flush deepened on her cheeks.

　　'But I told you--'

　　'I know what you told me. You said you did not trust me. Itdoesn't matter. I am coming back whether you trust me or not. Thishouse is under martial law, and I am in command. The situation haschanged since I spoke to you last night. Last night I was ready tolet you have your way. I intended to keep an eye on things fromthe inn. But it's different now. It is not a case of Sam Fisherany longer. You could have managed Sam. It's Buck MacGinnis now,the man who came that night in the automobile. I saw him in thevillage after I left you. He's dangerous.'

　　She looked away, past me, in the direction of the drive. Ifollowed her gaze. A stout figure, carrying a suit-case, wasmoving slowly down it.

　　I smiled. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the anger that had beenlying at the back of them flash out. Her chin went up with the olddefiant tilt. I was sorry I had smiled. It was my old fault, thecomplacency that would not be hidden.

　　'I don't believe you!' she cried. 'I don't trust you!'

　　It is curious how one's motive for embarking on a course ofconduct changes or disappears altogether as the action develops.

　　Once started on an enterprise it is as if one proceeded with itautomatically, irrespective of one's original motives. I had begunwhat I might call the second phase of this matter of the LittleNugget, the abandoning of Cynthia's cause in favour of Audrey's,with a clear idea of why I was doing it. I had set myself toresist the various forces which were trying to take Ogden fromAudrey, for one simple reason, because I loved Audrey and wishedto help her. That motive, if it still existed at all, did so onlyin the form of abstract chivalry. My personal feelings towards herseemed to have undergone a complete change, dating from ourparting in the road the night before. I found myself now meetinghostility with hostility. I looked at her critically and toldmyself that her spell was broken at last, that, if she dislikedme, I was at least indifferent to her.

　　And yet, despite my altered feelings, my determination to help hernever wavered. The guarding of Ogden might be--primarily--nobusiness of mine, but I had adopted it as my business.

　　'I don't ask you to trust me,' I said. 'We have settled all that.

　　There's no need to go over old ground. Think what you please aboutthis. I've made up my mind.'

　　'If you mean to stay, I suppose I can't prevent you.'

　　'Exactly.'

　　Sam appeared again in a gap in the trees, walking slowly andpensively, as one retreating from his Moscow. Her eyes followedhim till he was out of sight.

　　'If you like,' I said bitterly, 'you may put what I am doing downto professional rivalry. If I am in love with Mrs Ford and am hereto steal O............