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Updated: April 30, 2025
Cranbourne has a bee in his bonnet." "A whole hive," Lord Almont interjected. "Perhaps," Mr. Torrington smiled, "but let us at least do him the justice to admit that they buzz very merrily." Cassis shrugged his shoulders. "Buzzing is of no value in the present circumstances." Mr. Torrington continued to smile. "Except so far as it helps our young friend here to buzz off," he said.
Torrington waited for Cranbourne to return before giving Doran instructions to show in the gentlemen. To Cassis' unspoken protest he replied: "They evidently have some information which we lack. It would be wise to find out what it is." Ezra P. Hipps was first to enter. He came in like a triumphant army occupying captured territory.
The enthusiasm came under control but his voice still trembled. "It's all right, gentlemen, I can see a way. With any luck we'll succeed. Don't do anything until eleven o'clock on the night of the 27th. I'm going to try and find someone." And he made for the door. "But hang it all," Lord Almont shouted, "be a bit more explicit." Cranbourne turned. "Have you missed it," he said.
They come to Sir G. Carteret's house at Cranbourne, and there were entertained, and all made drunk; and that all being drunk, Armerer did come to the King, and swore to him, "By God, Sir," says he, "you are not so kind to the Duke of York of late as you used to be." "Not I?" says the King. "Why so?" "Why," says he, "if you are, let us drink his health." "Why, let us," says the King.
Sir Jasper Cranbourne, who had sense as well as spirit and courage, and who was aware of his fair cousin's motives, having been indeed consulted by her upon all the arrangements which she had adopted, saw matters were in such a state that no time ought to be lost in conducting the guests to the banqueting apartment, where a fortunate diversion from all these topics of rising discontent might be made, at the expense of the good cheer of all sorts, which the lady's care had so liberally provided.
"But Good Lord!" exclaimed Cranbourne. "That may mean anything." Nugent Cassis threw up his hands desperately. Every vestige of his quiet business habit had vanished and instead he was a nerve-racked exasperated man who paced up and down jerking out half sentences, reproaches and forecasts of failure. "It's that fellow Frencham Altar given us away.
Torrington and Cranbourne exchanged glances. "Am I to understand that Mr. Frencham Altar has found your hospitality too oppressive?" he asked. "Put it how you like, but that's a side show," came the answer. "We're here on business." Nugent Cassis had recovered some of his self-possession and remarked crisply: "We are very busy, Mr. Hipps."
"I'm too old to walk about." Cranbourne stopped and looked at him. "Mr. Torrington," he said. "Has it occurred to you that in undertaking this thing we have been guilty of grave wrong-doing? To line our own pockets while we stayed safe at home men have gone out at the risk of their lives.
Cranbourne made a hurried breakfast and set out to interview the photographers of the town. The particular one he sought did not arrive until nearly nine but on being questioned proved himself amiable and anxious to help. He produced Eton school groups of fifteen years antiquity and Cranbourne spent an hour anxiously scanning the faces of the boys in the hope of tracing a likeness to Barraclough.
"I shall stay in my club, Rover's, in Cranbourne Street. You can ring me up." "Good," Willis answered, rising to his feet. "Then let me say again how pleased I am to have met you and heard your story. Five o'clock, then, if you don't hear to the contrary." When Merriman had taken his leave the inspector sat on at his desk, lost in thought.
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