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did Doctor Syn break silence:

“I warrant, Tony, that when I ask ed you to accompany me upon with the

first stage of my Odyssey, you made up your mind that it would mean a

ride to Oxford.”

“I expect you to speak of Oxford, certainly,” answered Tony; “and now

you mention it, I can speak out the easier. I propose that I shall ride

there in your stead. There are certain things to be done there. That

villain’s pack-horse is still in my father’s stables, and should be

returned to Iffley. You have many personal possessions left at Queen’s,

and there is the question of money owing at White Friars. All these

things I can settle for you, if you will give me authority.”

“To save me pain, you think,” he answered. “But there is no more

misery in the whole world that can affect me now. Reading her letter, I

received my deat h-blow, and a dead man ca

Oxford personally, for I have many odd preparations to be made there

against my ultimate sea-faring.”

“You are intending to leave England?” asked Tony sadly. “I feared you

would say so.”

- 62 -

“But not yet, Tony. No, not yet. Eventually, of course. But there must

be no haste. Haste flusters a man, and I have sworn that through it all

I shall remain most calm, and most deliberate. That devil, with his

damned guitar and Spanish songs, expects me, as a man of spirit, to

sweep to my revenge. I shall not sweep to please him, but creep to it.

Yes, inch by inch, along the million miles, if needs be. Slowly, calmly

and deliberately, but always very surely. I’ll play the cat to his

pathetic mouse. And when at last he fawns at me to kill, I’ll whisper,

‘No. Not yet. It is not quite time yet.’”

Moved by his friend’s emotion, and resenting all that caused it, Tony

leant forward, caught his companion’s bridle and forced him to the halt.

“Christopher,” he said, “if you really wish revenge, leave this

affair to m e, and you shall have it fully. Suppose I follow them. Kill

him, and bring her back to you repentant. Would you forgive her then?”

And at this, Syn laughed, but not kindly. Gently he released his

friend’s hand from his bridle, and slowly pressed his horse into a walk,

saying through his laughter:

“Oh, my good Tony, you almost persuade me to think that there is a

little niceness in this dreadful world. But no, Tony, I have loved as

maybe only you could love. But I have lost. And now I chase another

mistress, and I find her most alluring. Her name is Revenge.”

When they reached the old attorney’s house, Tony tactfully insisted

that he would remain outside and hold the horses.

“I shall not keep you long, I promise you,” said Syn. “I have my

business at my fingertips, which will please Uncle Solomon, since I

interrupt his working hours.”

“You must not hurry on my account,” replied Tony. “Besides your

business, you will have family affairs to discuss.”

“There will be no discussion,” returned Syn. “I can tell him the

bare facts in a sentence, and then make my business request. A few

minutes will suffice for all I have to say.”

He was as good as his word, for in a few minutes the front door was

opened again, not by the man -servant, but by Solomon Syn himself. He

saluted Tony cordially, and assisted his nephew in arranging two bulky

banker’s bags across the saddle.

“Aye, Christopher,” said the old man, “they will ride there safe

enough, for the webbing is strong, and you know how to tie a knot. If

you meet a highwayman, avoid him.”

“We should be two to one, Uncle,” laughed the Doctor. “We are both

armed, and can take care of ourselves, I think.”

As they rode away he tapped the bags before him and explained:

“Guineas, Tony. I knew my uncle kept a store of them locked in his

vault. On our return to Dymchurch, old Wraight the builder is to meet



me at the Vicarage. I wish to settle his account today. It is the

first step of my Odyssey. Each hour I must do something to advance it.

I wonder, now, how many years it will take, and how many land and sea

miles I shall cover?”

“I still hope,” said Tony sadly, “that God will show you there is

something better than revenge.”

But the Doctor shook his head and answered, “There can be nothing

better in the world.”

When they had handed their horses to the Court-House grooms, Tony

insisted upon carrying the guinea-bags to the Vicarage, where they found

the good old builder awaiting their pleasure.

“There was not this need of hasty payment, sir, as far as I’m

concerned,” said the old man respectfully.

- 63 -

“I know, but I wish to get it settled,” replied Syn. “I see that you

have the detailed list of items with you. Give it to Mr. Cobtree to

look over, while you and I take a final look at the improvements.”

So Tony sat down to the library table and checked the inventory,

while Wraight followed the Vicar from room to room, and out into the

garden, the builder talking proudly of the various results of his work,

and the Doctor vouchsafing not a word of comment. Neither praise nor

censure did he speak, till his silence worried the old man. Unable to

stand it longer, he asked:

“I hope, sir, that my work meets with your approval?”

“Of course. Of course,” replied Syn, but in a tone that showed the

builder that his mind was elsewhere. “The work has been faithfully

carried out, according to my instructions, and whatever mistake has been

made, it is mine, and not yours, and I will take the blame.”

“Mistake? The blame?” repeated Wraight. “I beg, sir, that you will

point out any mistake, that I can rectify it.”

The Doctor changed the subject suddenly, and pointing to a ladder

that leaned against the new wing in which Imogene had pla

nurseries, he asked what it was there for. “I see it gives access to

the roof. Is it not finished?”

Wraight explained that he had been up there before the Doctor’s

arrival to inspect the new red tiles.

“Did you find them satisfactory?” asked the Doctor.

“I did, sir. Very pleased with them I was. I wager they’ll keep out

wind and water for a century.”

“I wonder now,” said Syn, with a smile.

Bridled that his work should be thus criticized, the old man was

anger, but before he could speak, Syn left him abruptly, and walked

quickly to a tool shed from which he brought a heavy pick-ax. Then he

climbed the ladder and stood upon the gently sloping tiles. Suddenly he

laughed, and, to Wraight’s astonishment and indignation, he swung the

pick above his head and brought the flat blade of it down with a

sweeping blow. Using the implement as a lever, he forced the tiles from

their pegs and sent them crashing down into the garden below. In a

minute he had torn a hole in the roof through which he cast the pick,

and with such force that it tore its way with falling plaster into the

room below which was to have been the nursery. Dusting his clothes

deliberately, he climbed down the ladder and told the amazed Wraight to

follow him into the house.

Tony, who had heaped up the requisite pile of guineas on the table,

crossed to the window to find out the cause of the noise, but seeing the

grim expression upon the two men’s faces as they entered, he kept

silence and waited for an explanation.

“I have thoroughly satisfied myself, Tony,” said the Doctor, “that

Mr. Wraight has carried out the work I gave him faithfully. I see you

have the guineas waiting for him, so if you will count it, Mr. Wraight,