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  ‘Hadn’t I better send someone for the police, sir? Or perhaps you’d rather I phoned?’ It was Branch who made the suggestion.

  Sir Percival hesitated. ‘I don’t think so, thank you, Branch,’ he said. ‘Anyway, not yet. You see,’ he went on, turning to the others, ‘to make a loss like this public entails very serious consequences. We are really the guardians of the Chalice for the Crown. I want the chapel locked as usual, Branch, and no mention of the loss to be made known to the staff, as yet.’

  ‘But what shall we do?’ said Val breathlessly. ‘We can’t sit down and wait for it to reappear.’

  His father looked at him curiously. ‘Perhaps not, my boy,’ he said. ‘But there’s one point which must have occurred to all of you. The Chalice is both large and heavy, and no stranger has left the house since I locked it up myself. No one except ourselves could possibly have had access to it, and we are all very particularly concerned in keeping it here.’

  ‘According to that argument,’ said Val bluntly, ‘it can’t have gone. And if so, where is it? Can’t you send for the Chief Constable? He used to be a friend of yours.’

  His father hesitated. ‘I could, of course,’ he said, ‘though I don’t see what he could do except spread the alarm and question all the servants – search the house, probably, and make a lot of fuss. No, we must find this thing ourselves.’

  There was an astonishing air of finality in his tone which was not lost upon the others.

  ‘I’m not calling in the police,’ he said, ‘not yet, at any rate. And I must particularly ask you not to mention this loss to anyone. I’m convinced,’ he went on as they gasped at him, ‘that the relic is still in the house. Now I should like to be left alone.’

  They went out, all of them, except Val, who lingered, and when the door had closed behind the others he went over to the old man, who had seated himself at his desk.

  ‘Look here, Dad,’ he said, ‘if you’ve hidden the Cup for some reason or other, for Heaven’s sake let me in on it. I’m all on edge about this business, and frankly I feel I’ve got a right to know!

  ‘For Heaven’s sake, boy, don’t be a fool.’ The older man’s voice was almost unrecognizable, and the face he lifted towards his son was grey and haggard. ‘This is one of the most serious, most terrifying things I have ever experienced in my whole lifetime,’ he went on, his voice indubitably sincere. ‘All the more so because, as it happens, we are so situated that at the moment it is impossible for me to call in the police.’

  He looked the boy steadily in the eyes. ‘You come of age in a week. If your birthday were today perhaps I should find this easier to explain.’

  Early the following morning Mr Campion walked down the broad staircase, through the lounge-hall, and out into the sunlight. There seemed no reason for him to be particularly cheerful. So far his activities at Sanctuary seemed to have met with anything rather than conspicuous success. Lady Pethwick had died mysteriously within eight hours of his arrival, and now the main object of his visit had disappeared from almost directly beneath his nose.

  Yet he sat down on one of the ornamental stone seats which flanked the porch and beamed upon a smiling world.

  Presently, as his ears detected the sound for which he was listening, he began to stroll in a leisurely fashion down the drive. He was still sauntering along the middle of the broad path when the squawk of a motor-horn several times repeated made him turn to find Penny, in her little red two-seater sports car, looking at him reprovingly. She had had to stop to avoid running him over. He smiled at her foolishly from behind his spectacles.

  ‘Where are you going to, my pretty maid?’ he said. ‘Would you like to give a poor traveller a lift?’

  The girl did not look particularly pleased at the suggestion.

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ she said, ‘I’m running up to Town to see my dressmaker. I’ll give you a lift to the village if you like.’

  ‘I’m going to London too,’ said Mr Campion, climbing in. ‘It’s a long way from here, isn’t it?’ he went on with apparent imbecility. ‘I knew I’d never walk it.’

  Penny stared at him, her cheeks flushing. ‘Surely you can’t go off and leave the Tower unprotected,’ she said, and there was a note of amusement in her voice.

  ‘Never laugh at a great man,’ said Mr Campion. ‘Remember what happened to the vulgar little girls who threw stones at Elisha. I can imagine few worse deaths than being eaten by a bear,’ he added conversationally.

  The girl was silent for a moment. She was clearly considerably put out by the young man’s unexpected appearance.

  ‘Look here,’ she said at last, ‘I’m taking Beth with me, if you really want to know. I’m meeting her at the end of the lane.’

  Mr Campion beamed. ‘That’s all right,’ he said. ‘I shan’t mind being squashed. Don’t let me force myself on you,’ he went on. ‘I shouldn’t dream of doing that, but I’ve got to get to London somehow, and Lugg told me I couldn’t use the Bentley.’

  The girl looked at him incredulously. ‘What is that man Lugg?’ she said.

  Her companion adjusted his spectacles. ‘It depends how you mean,’ he said. ‘A species, definitely human, I should say, oh yes, without a doubt. Status – none. Past – filthy. Occupation – my valet.’

  Penny laughed. ‘I wondered if he were your keeper,’ she suggested.

  ‘Tut, tut,’ said Mr Campion, mildly offended. ‘I hope I’m going to enjoy my trip. I don’t want to be “got at” in a parroty fashion all the way up. Ah, there’s your little friend waiting for us. Would you like me to sit in the dickey?’

  ‘No!’ said Penny, so vehemently that he almost jumped. She bit her lip as though annoyed with herself and added more quietly, ‘Sit where you are. Beth can squeeze in.’

  She brought the car to a standstill against the side of the road where Beth Cairey, smart and coolly attractive in navy and white, stood waiting. She seemed surprised to see Mr Campion and her greeting was subdued.

  ‘This appalling creature has insisted on our giving him a lift,’ said Penny. ‘I do hope you won’t be squashed in front here.’

  Mr Campion made way for her between himself and the driver.

  ‘I couldn’t very well refuse him,’ Penny added apologetically to Beth. ‘We shall have to put up with him.’

  Mr Campion continued to look ineffably pleased with himself. ‘What a good job there’s no more for the Skylark, isn’t it?’ he remarked as he shut the door on the tightly packed little party. ‘I love riding in other people’s motor-cars. Such a saving of petrol, for one thing.’

  ‘Silly and rather vulgar,’ said Penny, and Mr Campion was silent.

  ‘I suppose I can eat my sandwiches and drink my ginger beer so long as I don’t throw the bottle on the road?’ he said meekly after they had progressed a couple of miles without speaking. ‘I’ve got a few oranges I could pass round too if you like.’

  Penny did not deign to reply, although Beth looked upon him more kindly. Unabashed, Mr Campion continued.

  ‘I’ve got a rattle to swing in the big towns,’ he said. ‘And a couple of funny noses for you two to wear. If we had some balloons we could tie them on the bonnet.’

  Penny laughed grudgingly. ‘Albert, you’re an idiot,’ she said. ‘What do you think you’re doing here, anyhow? Where are you going to in London?’

  ‘To buy a ribbon for my straw hat,’ said Mr Campion promptly. ‘The thing I’ve got now my Aunt knitted. It’s not quite the article, as Lugg would say.’

  Penny slowed down. ‘You’re just being offensive,’ she said. ‘I’ve a good mind to make you get out and walk.’

  Mr Campion looked apprehensive. ‘You’d regret it all your life,’ he said warningly. ‘The best part of my performance is to come. Wait till you’ve heard me recite – wait till I’ve done my clog dance – wait till the clouds roll by.’

  ‘I should turn him out,’ said Beth stolidly. ‘We’ve come a long way, it would do him good to walk back.’
r />   They were, it happened, in one of the narrow cross-country lanes through which Penny was threading in her descent upon the main Colchester motor-way, some distance from a house of any kind, and the road was deserted.

  ‘Don’t turn me out,’ pleaded Mr Campion. ‘I knew a man once who turned such a respectable person out of his car after giving him a lift for a long way just like you and for the same reason, all because he’d taken a sudden dislike to him. And when he got home he found that his suitcase, which had been in the back of the car, was missing. Suppose that happened to you? You wouldn’t like that, would you?’

  Penny stopped the car, engine and all. Both girls were scarlet, but it was Penny who tried to rescue what was obviously an awkward situation.

  ‘How silly of me,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to get out and start her up. The self-starter isn’t functioning.’

  Mr Campion moved obediently to get out, and in doing so contrived to kneel up on the seat and grasp one end of the large suitcase which protruded from the open dickey. His next movement was so swift that neither of the two girls realized what was happening until he had leapt clear of the car and stood beaming in the road, the suitcase in his arms. In fact Penny had already trodden on the self-starter and the car was in motion before she was conscious of her loss.

  Mr Campion put the suitcase on the bank and sat down on it. Penny stopped the car, and she and Beth descended and came down the road towards him. She was white with anger, and there was a gleam of defiance in Beth’s brown eyes that was positively dangerous.

  ‘Mr Campion,’ said Penny, ‘will you please put that case back in the car at once? Naturally, I can’t offer you a lift any farther, and if ever you have the impudence to appear at the Tower again I’ll have you thrown out.’

  Mr Campion looked dejected, but he still retained his seat. ‘Don’t be unreasonable,’ he begged. ‘You’re making me go all melodramatic and slightly silly.’

  The two girls stared at him fascinated. He was juggling with a revolver which he had taken from his hip-pocket.

  Penny was now thoroughly alarmed. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded. ‘You can’t behave like this. Another car may come along at any moment. Then where will you be?’

  ‘Then where will you be?’ said Mr Campion pointedly.

  With his free hand he slipped open the catches of the suitcase. There was a smothered scream from Beth.

  ‘Please – please leave it alone,’ she whispered.

  Mr Campion shook his head. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Dooty is dooty, miss. Hullo! Is that a car?’

  The inexperienced ladies were deceived by the old trick. They turned eagerly, and in the momentary respite Mr Campion whipped open the suitcase and exposed a large bundle wrapped lightly in a travelling rug.

  Beth would have sprung at him, but Penny restrained her. ‘It’s no good,’ she said, ‘we’re sunk.’

  And they stood sullenly in the road with pink cheeks and bright eyes regarding him steadily as he unwrapped and produced to their gaze the eighteen inches of shining glory that was called the Gyrth Chalice.

  CHAPTER 11

  Mr Campion Subscribes

  —

  FOR some moments Mr Campion stood at the side of the glittering flint road with the bank of green behind him, and the shadows of the beech leaves making a pattern on his face and clothes. The Chalice lay in his arms, dazzling in the sunshine.

  Penny and Beth stood looking at him. They were both crimson, both furious and a little afraid. Penny was fully aware of the enormity of the situation. It was Campion who spoke first.

  ‘As amateurs,’ he said judicially, ‘you two only serve to show what a lot of undiscovered talent there is knocking about.’

  He re-wrapped the Chalice and put it back into the suitcase.

  All this time there was an ominous silence from Penny, and glancing at her he was afraid for one horrible moment that she was on the verge of tears.

  ‘Look here,’ he said, smiling at her from behind his spectacles, ‘I know you think I’ve butted into this rather unwarrantably, but consider my position. In this affair I occupy the same sort of role as the Genie of the Lamp. Wherever the Chalice is I am liable to turn up at any moment.’

  Penny’s expression did not change for some seconds, and then, to his relief, a faint smile appeared at the corners of her mouth.

  ‘How on earth did you know?’ she said.

  Mr Campion sighed with relief.

  ‘The process of elimination,’ said he oracularly as he picked up the suitcase and trudged back to the car with it, ‘combined with a modicum of common sense, will always assist us to arrive at the correct conclusion with the maximum of possible accuracy and the minimum of hard labour. Which being translated means: I guessed it.’ He lifted the case into the dickey once more, and held the door open for Penny and her companion.

  She hung back. ‘That’s not fair,’ she said. ‘Suppose you explain?’

  Mr Campion shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, it wasn’t very difficult, was it?’ he said. ‘In the first place it was obvious that the chapel had not been burgled. Ergo, someone had opened the door with the key. Ergo, it must have been you, because the only other two people who could possibly have known where it was were your father and Branch, and they, if I may say so, are both a bit conservative on the subject of the Chalice.’

  Penny bit her lip and climbed into the driving seat. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘I’m the “Maid of the Cup”.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Mr Campion. ‘Hence your very natural feeling of responsibility.’ He hesitated and looked at her owlishly. ‘I bet I could tell you what you were going to do with it.’

  ‘Well?’ She looked at him defiantly.

  Mr Campion laid his hand on that part of the suitcase which projected from the dickey. ‘You were going to put this in Chancery Lane Safe Deposit,’ he said.

  Penny gasped at him, and there was a little smothered squeak from Beth. Mr Campion went on.

  ‘You had relied on the ten days’ veiling of the Chalice to keep its loss a secret, and I have no doubt you intended to confess the whole matter to Val and your father before they had any real cause for worry. Unfortunately, Mrs Shannon upset the applecart and you had to get busy right away. And that’s why I was waiting for you this morning. Now shall we go on?’

  Penny sat staring at him in bewilderment. ‘It’s not fair of you to look so idiotic,’ she said involuntarily. ‘People get led astray. I suppose you won’t even be particularly bucked to know that you’ve guessed right?’

  The young man with the simple face and gentle ineffectual manner looked uncomfortable.

  ‘All this praise makes me unhappy,’ he said. ‘I must admit I wasn’t sure until I was in the car this morning that you had the treasure in the suitcase. It was only when you were so anxious for me not to sit beside it that I knew that the rat I saw floating in the air was a bona fide rose to nip in the bud.’

  Penny drew a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I suppose we turn back.’

  Mr Campion laid a hand on the driving wheel.

  ‘Please,’ he said pleadingly, with something faintly reminiscent of seriousness on his face, ‘please listen to me for a little longer. You two have got to be friends with me. We’re all in the soup together. Consider the facts. Here we are, sitting in the middle of a public highway with a highly incriminating piece of antiquity in the back of the car. That’s bad to start with. Then – and this is much more worthy of note – if I was bright enough to spot what you were up to, what about our nosy friends who are out for crime anyhow?’

  ‘You mean you think they might actually come down on us on the way?’ said Penny apprehensively. This aspect of the case had clearly never occurred to her. ‘And yet,’ she added, a flash of suspicion showing in her blue eyes, ‘it’s perfectly ridiculous. How is any outside person to know that the Chalice isn’t still in the Cup House? Only Father, Val, Branch, you and I know it’s gone.’

  ‘You forget,’
said Mr Campion gently. ‘You had visitors yesterday, and the unpleasant Mr Putnam, who is making use of your retiring little friend Mrs Shannon, had a face vaguely familiar to me.’

  Penny’s eyes flickered. ‘That revolting little man?’ she said. ‘Is he the – the big fellow you were talking about? You know, when you said the stream was full of minnows and there were no big fish about.’

  Mr Campion regarded her gravely. ‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘But he’s certainly in the dab class. I fancy his real name is Matthew Sanderson. That’s why I kept so quiet; I was afraid he might spot me. I don’t think he did, but he certainly noticed that the Chalice had disappeared. Hang it all, he couldn’t very well miss it. Anyhow, if he is the man I think he is, then I’m open to bet that he’s not twenty miles away from here now.’

  Penny looked at him helplessly. ‘I’ve been a fool,’ she said. ‘We’ll go back at once.’

  Campion hesitated. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said, and glanced at Beth. ‘I don’t know if we ought to drag Miss Cairey in to all this –’

  An expression of determination appeared upon the elder girl’s face, and her lips were set in a firm hard line.

  ‘I’m in this with Penny,’ she said.

  To her surprise he nodded gravely. ‘I told Val you’d be game,’ he said. ‘He should be waiting for us at a little pub called “The Case is Altered” just outside Coggeshall.’

  ‘Val?’ Penny was startled. ‘What does he know about it?’

  ‘Just about as much as I do,’ said Mr Campion, considering. ‘While you were shouting your travelling arrangements over the phone in the hall last night, he and I were discussing fat stock prices and whatnot in the smoking-room. I told him what I thought, and I persuaded him to let you carry on the good work and smuggle the thing out of the house for us.’

  ‘Then you think it’s a good idea – the safe deposit?’ said Beth anxiously. ‘I told Penny I was sure that was the only certain way of keeping it safe.’

  Mr Campion did not answer her immediately. He had resumed his place in the car and sat regarding the dashboard thoughtfully as though he were making up his mind how much to say.