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Updated: June 6, 2025
But I told him that if I could stand high in the esteem of twenty such men as Cayley, Sylvester, and Peirce, I cared nothing to be prominent in the eyes of the rest of the world."
He closed the book with a slam, put it back in its shelf, and began to feel for his pipe and tobacco. "I was a fool to bet with Tony," he added. "He always knows that sort of thing." So far, so good. But here was Cayley still in the library, and there was Antony, all unsuspecting, in the passage.
Mark's weaknesses, on the other hand, were very plain to the eye, and Bill had seen a good deal of them. Yet, though he had hesitated to define his position that morning in regard to Mark, he did not hesitate to place himself on the side of the Law against Cayley. Mark, after all, had done him no harm, but Cayley had committed an unforgivable offence.
But, to let Cayley speak: 'While we were undressing to go to bed, three gentlemen were announced and shown in. We begged them to be seated. . . . We sat opposite on the ends of our respective beds to hear what they might have to communicate. A venerable old man opened the conference.
Cayley frowned. "What two people?" "My wife and I." "Why?" "Because there has been a mistake, and to live is misery." "Has it come to that?" Cayley asked huskily. "Is there no way no better way? Are you sure that Death mends things?" Presently he put his hand upon Houghton's arm, as if with a sudden, keen resolve. "Houghton," he said, "you are a man I have become a villain.
It will mean breaking open the box, and letting Cayley know that we've done it. You see, Bill, if we don't find anything out for ourselves in the next day or two, we've got to tell the police what we have found out, and then they can explore the passage for themselves. But I don't want to do that yet." "Rather not. "So we've got to carry on secretly for a bit. It's the only way."
When you were talking about it on the lawn, I really got quite keen on the idea of the key being outside and Mark taking it in with him." "It's going to be exciting enough," said Antony mildly, as he transferred his pipe and tobacco into the pocket of his black coat. "Well, let's come down; I'm ready now." Cayley was waiting for them in the hall.
Birch was certainly prepared to believe that Mark had shot his brother. And Mark was missing. Obviously, then, Mark had killed his brother: accidentally, as Cayley believed, or deliberately, as Elsie's evidence seemed to suggest. There was no point in looking for a difficult solution to a problem, when the easy solution had no flaw in it.
Two abreast was uncomfortable, so Antony dropped behind, and further conversation was postponed until they were outside the boundary fence and in the high road. The road sloped gently down to the village of Waldheim a few red-roofed cottages, and the grey tower of a church showing above the green. "Well, now," said Antony, as they stepped out more quickly, "what about Cayley?"
Practically contemporary with Cayley was Thomas Walker, concerning whom little is known save that he was a portrait painter of Hull, where was published his pamphlet on The Art of Flying in 1810, a second and amplified edition being produced, also in Hull, in 1831.
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