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"Very well, as you think best," was Challis's last word. As Challis walked down to the gate, where his motor was waiting for him, Mr. Forman trotted up from behind and ranged himself alongside. "More rain wanted yet for the roots, sir," he said. "September was a grand month for 'arvest, but we want rain badly now." "Quite, quite," murmured Challis, politely. He shook hands with Mr.
Sometimes Lewes would hear him mutter: "If he would only answer a few questions...." There was always one hope in Challis's mind. He hoped that some sort of climax might be reached when the Encyclopædia was finished. The child must, at least, ask then for another book. Even if he chose one for himself, his choice might furnish some sort of a test.
Just as he arrived on the scene, Billy Silver's defence broke down. One of Challis's slows, which he had left alone with the idea that it was going to break away to the off, came in quickly instead, and removed a bail. Billy Silver had only made eight; but, as the full score, including one bye, was only eighteen, this was above the average, and deserved the applause it received.
It must remain uncertain, now, whether or not Elmer would have persisted in his endeavour to exploit the Wonder to the confounding of Grossmann, despite Challis's explicit statement that he would do no more, not even if it were to save the reputation of the Royal Society. Elmer certainly had the virtue of persistence and might have made the attempt.
He came back to London in September he made the return journey by steamer and found his secretary still working at the monograph on the primitive peoples of Melanesia. Lewes had spent the whole summer in Challis's town house in Eaton Square, whither all the material had been removed two days after that momentous afternoon in the library of Challis Court.
It was three years since their last meeting, and Crashaw noticed that in the interval Challis's pointed beard had become streaked with grey. "Hallo! How d'ye do, Crashaw?" was the squire's casual greeting. "How is the Stoke microcosm?" Crashaw smiled subserviently; he was never quite at his ease in Challis's presence.
I looked round, but the ramshackle cart was hidden by the turn of the road. "Does Stott still live at Pym?" I asked. "Not Ginger," replied Bates. "He lives at Ailesworth. Mrs. Stott and 'er son lives here." "The boy's still alive then?" I asked. "Yes," said Bates. "Intelligent child?" I asked. "They say," replied Bates. They say 'e's read every book in Mr. Challis's librairy."
"I have been wanting your help badly for some time, sir," Lewes said on the evening of Challis's return. "Are you proposing to take up the work again? If not ..." Gregory Lewes thought he was wasting valuable time. "Yes, yes, of course; I am ready to begin again now, if you care to go on with me," said Challis. He talked for a few minutes of the book without any great show of interest.
Challis's anticipation that he and Lewes would be greatly favoured by the Wonder's company was fully realised. The child put in an appearance at half-past nine the next morning, just as the governess cart was starting out to fetch him.
He was occupied with his own interests; he doubted Challis's intention to continue his work on the book the announcement had been so half-hearted. "What about that child?" asked Challis. "That child?" Lewes appeared to have forgotten the existence of Victor Stott. "That abnormal child of Stott's?" prompted Challis. "Oh! Of course, yes. I believe he still goes nearly every day to the library.
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