Far up the winding road which led back into the world, a
motor-car was crawling on its way up over. He watched it through a pair
of field glasses. Leaning back in the tonneau with folded arms, as
though solemnly digesting a problem, was Inspector Gillian. Tallente
closed the glasses with a little snap and smiled.
"The Bucket type," he murmured to himself, "very much the Bucket type."
CHAPTER V
The moon that night seemed to be indulging in strange vagaries, now
dimly visible behind a mist of thin grey vapour, now wholly obscured
behind jagged masses of black cloud, and occasionally shining
brilliantly from a little patch of clear sky. Tallente waited for one
of the latter moments before he finally tested the rope which was wound
around the strongest of the young pine trees and stepped over the rustic
wooden paling at the edge of the lookout He stood there balanced between
earth and sky, until Robert, who watched him, shivered. "There is
nothing to fear," his master said coolly. "Remember, I am an old hand
at mountain climbing, Robert. All the same, if anything should happen,
you'd better say that we fancied we heard a cry from down below and I
went to see what it was.
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