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He carried a mass of papers and books under one arm; the other hand grasped an umbrella which had grown green and grey in service. He might have been all sorts of insignificant things: a clerk, going homeward from his work; a tax-gatherer, carrying his documents; a rent-collector, anxious about a defaulting tenant anything of that sort. But Bunning knew him for Mr.
Bunning," he continued, when the ex-sergeant had been summoned to the witness-box, "I want you to give me some information about the relation of your rooms to the upper portion of the Moot Hall. You live in rooms on the ground floor, don't you? Yes? Very well, now, is there any entrance to your rooms other than that at the front of the building the entrance from the market-place?" "Yes, sir.
And yet, whilst that Shadow hovered in the Outer Court, how little a thing this stir and movement was! No tumult that the material world could ever make could sound like that whisper that was with him now again in the room with him at his very heart "All things betray Thee. . . ." The respite was over. Bunning came in. Change had seized Bunning.
Bunning knew the Mayor was dead before that cry of surprise had passed his lips. In his time he had seen many dead men sometimes it was a bullet, sometimes a bayonet; he knew the signs of what follows on the swift passage of one and the sharp thrust of the other.
The man was on the edge of hysteria. His senseless giggle threatened that in another instant it would be beyond all control. There was no time to be lost. Olva took him by the shoulders, held him firmly and looked straight into the weak, quivering eyes that were behind the glasses like fish in a tank. "Look here, Bunning. Pull yourself together. You must you must. Do you understand?
Martin's Chapel on the day of the discovery of the body. What he would give to reclaim that now! Meanwhile he must battle; must quiet Craven's suspicions, must play football, join company with men who seemed to him now like shadows. As he glanced round at them at Lawrence, Bunning, Galleon Cardillac they seemed to have far less existence than the grey shadow in the outer Court. "Come to Me.
It was still there, its arm outstretched above the snowy court, but Bunning seemed, in some odd way, to intervene. "I always wanted to find God in those days. It sounds a stupid thing to say, but they used to speak about Him mother and the rest just as though He lived down the street. They knew all about Him and I used to wonder why I didn't know too. But I didn't. It wasn't real to me.
Bunning took off his great spectacles and wiped them with a very dirty handkerchief. "And had you no friends?" "None nobody. I didn't want them after a bit. I was afraid of everybody. I used to go down all the side-streets between school and home for fear lest I should meet some one. I was always very nervous as a boy very. I still am." "Nervous of people?" "Yes, of everybody.
It was the fate of Bunning that his boots and spectacles should always negative any attempt that he might make at a striking personality. On the night after the "Rag" he sat in Olva's room and made a supreme effort at control. "If you can only hold on," Olva told him, "to the end of term. It's only a week or two now. Just stick it until then; you won't be bothered with me after that."
And as he stood looking about him, he saw a man turn the corner of Meadow Gate a man who came hurrying along in his direction, walking sharply, his eyes bent on the flags beneath his feet, his whole attitude that of one in deep reflection. At sight of him Bunning put his pipe in his pocket, gave himself the soldier's shake and, as the man drew near, stood smartly to attention.
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