“Hurt!” Trehern exclaimed. “How? Why, if it bean’t Miss Pride! Hurt! What way?”

“Where would you be from, then, Jim?” Sergeant Pender asked.

“Up to pub as usual, George,” he said. “Where else?” A characteristic parcel protruded from his overcoat pocket. “Happen she took a fall? Them steps be treacherous going for females well gone into the terrors of antiquity.”

“Did you leave the pub this instant-moment?”

“Surely. Why?”

“Dicl you notice anybody up-along — off of the steps, like? In the rough?”

“Are you after them courting couples again, George Pender?”

“No,” said Mr. Pender shortly. “I bean’t.”

“I did not fall,” said Miss Emily loudly. She rose to her feet and confronted Trehern. “I was struck,” she said.

“Lord forbid, ma-am! Who’d take a fancy to do a crazy job like that?”

Jenny said to Pender: “I think we ought to get Miss Pride home.”

“So we should, then. Now, ma-am,” said Pender with an air of authority. “You’m not going to walk up them steps, if you please, so if you’ve no objection us chaps’ll manage you, same as if we was bringing you ashore in a rough sea.”

“I assure you, officer—”

“Very likely, ma-am, and you with the heart of a lion as all can see, but there’d be no kind of sense in it. Now, then, souls: Hup!”

And before she knew what had happened, Miss Emily was sitting on a chair of woollen-clad arms with her own arms neatly disposed by Mr. Pender round a pair of slightly fishy-smelling shoulders, and her face in close association with those of her bearers.

“Pretty as a picture,” Pender said. “Heave away, chaps. Stand aside, if you please, Jim.”

“My umbrella.”

“I’ve got it,” said Jenny. “And your bag.”

When they reached the top Miss Emily said: “I am extremely obliged. If you will allow me, officer, I would greatly prefer it if I might enter in the normal manner. I am perfectly able to do so and it will be less conspicuous.” And to Jenny: “Please ask them to put me down.”

“I think she’ll be all right,” Jenny said.

“Very good, ma-am,” said Pender. “Set ’er down, chaps. That’s clever. Gentle as a lamb.”

They stood round Miss Emily, and grinned bashfully at her.

“You have been very kind,” she said; “I hope you will be my guests; though it will be wiser, perhaps, if I do not give myself the pleasure of joining you. I will leave instructions. Thank you very much.”

She took her umbrella and handbag from Jenny, bowed to her escort and walked quite fast towards the entrance. Jenny followed her. On the way, they passed Wally Trehern.

Patrick was in the vestibule. Miss Emily inclined her head to him and made for the stairs. Her handbag was bloody and conspicuous. Jenny collected her room key from the desk.

“What on earth…?” Patrick said, coming up to her.

“Get Dr. Mayne, could you? Up to her room. And Patrick — there are two fishermen and Mr. Pender outside. She wants them to have drinks on her. Can you fix it? I’ll explain later.”

“Good Lord! Yes, all right.”

Jenny overtook Miss Emily on the landing. She was shaky and, without comment, accepted an arm. When they had reached her room she sat on her bed and looked at Jenny with an expression of triumph.

“I am not surprised,” she said, “it was to be expected, my dear”—and fainted.

“Well,” said Dr. Mayne, smiling into Miss Emily’s face, “there’s no great damage done. I think you’ll recover.”

“I have already done so.”

“Yes, I daresay, but I suggest you go slow for a day or two, you know. You’ve had a bit of shock. How old are you?”

“I’m eighty-three and four months.”

“Good God!”

“Ours is a robust family, Dr. Mayne. My sister, Fanny Winterbottom, whom I daresay you have met, would be alive today if she had not, in one of her extravagant moods, taken an excursion in a speedboat.”

“Did it capsize?” Jenny was startled into asking.

“Not at all. But the excitement was too much and the consequent depression exposed her to an epidemic of Asiatic influenza. From which she died. It was quite unnecessary, and the indirect cause of my present embarrassment.”

There was a short silence. Jenny saw Dr. Mayne’s eyebrows go up.

“Really?” he said. “Well, now, I don’t think we should have any more conversation tonight. Some hot milk with a little whisky or brandy, if you like it, and a couple of aspirins. I’ll look in tomorrow.”

“You do not, I notice, suggest that I bathe my injuries in the spring.”

“No,” he said, and they exchanged a smile.

“I had intended to call upon you tomorrow with reference to my proposals. Have you heard of them?”

“I have. But I’m not going to discuss them with you tonight.”

“Do you object? To my proposals?”

“No. Good night, Miss Pride. Please don’t get up until I’ve seen you.”

“And yet they would not, I imagine, be to your advantage.”

There was a tap on the door and Mrs. Barrimore came in.

“Miss Pride,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I’ve just heard. I’ve come to see if there’s anything…” She looked at Dr. Mayne.

“Miss Pride’s quite comfortable,” he said. “Jenny’s going to settle her down. I think we’ll leave her in charge, shall we?”

He waited while Mrs. Baltimore said another word or two, and then followed her out of the room. He shut the door, and they moved down the passage.

“Bob,” she said, “what is it? What happened? Has she been attacked?”

“Probably some lout from the village.”

“You don’t think…”

“No.” He looked at her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Don’t worry so, Margaret.”

“I can’t help it. Did you see Keith?”

“Yes. He’s overdone it, tonight. Flat out in the old bar-parlour. I’ll get him up to bed.”

“Does Patrick know?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“He wasn’t flat out an hour ago. He was in the ugly stages. He — he — was talking so wildly. What he’d do to her — to Miss Pride. You know?”

“My dear girl, he was plastered. Don’t get silly ideas into your head, now, will you? Promise?”

“All right,” she said. “Yes. All right.”

“Good night,” he said and left her there with her fingers against her lips.

On the next day, Tuesday, Miss Emily kept to her room, where in the afternoon she received, in turn, Mr. Nankivell (the Mayor of Portcarrow), Dr. Mayne and the Reverend Mr. Carstairs. On Wednesday, she called at Wally’s cottage. On Thursday she revisited the spring, mounted to her observation post, and remained there, under her umbrella, for a considerable time, conscientiously observed by Sergeant Pender, to whom she had taken a fancy, and by numerous visitors as well as several of the local characters, including Miss Cost, Wally Trehern and his father.

On Friday she followed the same routine — escaping a trip wire, which had been laid across her ascent to the ledge and removed by Mr. Pender two minutes before she appeared on the scene.

An hour later, this circumstance having been reported to him, Superintendent Alfred Coombe rang up Roderick Alleyn at his holiday address.

Alleyn was mowing his host’s tennis court when his wife hailed him from the terrace. He switched the machine off.

“Telephone,” she shouted. “Long distance.”

“Damnation!” he said and returned to the house. “Where’s it from, darling?”

“Portcarrow. District Headquarters. That’ll be Miss Emily, won’t it?”

“Inevitably, I fear.”

“Might it be only to say there’s nothing to report?” Troy asked doubtfully.

“Most unlikely.”

He answered the call, heard what Coombe had to say about the stone throwing and turned his thumb down for Troy’s information.

“Mind you,” Coombe said, “it might have been some damned Ted, larking about. Not that we’ve had trouble of that sort on the Island. But she’s raised a lot of feeling locally. Seeing what you’ve told us, I thought I ought to let you know.”

“Yes, of course. And you’ve talked to Miss Pride?”