CHAPTER XXXIII
VON EITELWURMER'S OPPORTUNITY
AT eight the following morning Siegfried von Eitelwurmer wasconsiderably surprised when the tenant of Ladybird Fold appeared atThe Croft, booted and gaitered and carrying his gun.
"You are two hours too early, Barcroft," he exclaimed. "What iswrong? Couldn't you sleep after your involuntary bath?"
He spoke jocularly, yet in his mind there was a haunting suspicionof doubt. Not that there was any reason for it as far as PeterBarcroft was concerned, although--did he but know it--PhilipEntwistle was "speeding things up" in his work of investigating thecase of Andrew Norton otherwise von Eitelwurmer.
"I slept soundly," replied the unruffled Peter. "Notwithstandinghot-water bottles and mustard poultices, cough-mixtures and variousbronchial remedies. It's one of the penalties of being married; but,'twixt you and me, I like being made a fuss of in that direction.Now, I wonder how you would fare, Norton, if you were taken ill,living practically by yourself?"
"Make the best of it, I suppose," replied the spy hurriedly. He wasan arrant coward where illness was concerned. "But why this earlycall? Thought you didn't rise much before nine?"
"I had a note from the parson this morning," exclaimed Barcroft. "Ihappened to mention that I was going shooting and told him that Iwould hand over the bag to the village soup kitchen. Personally Iloathe rabbits as food. However, the vicar informed me that thesoupkitchen opened at eleven-thirty, and asked if it would beconvenient for me to send the rabbits down by ten o'clock. Don'tsuppose we'll get back in time, but we'll try."
"First get your rabbits," said von Eitelwurmer banteringly.
"Trust me," declared Barcroft with conviction. "But are you busy?I'm afraid I've interrupted you."
"Only catalogues of early spring seeds," replied the spy. "They canwait till to-night. I'll be ready in a couple of minutes."
So saying the _soi-disant_ Norton threw the books on the floor withfeigned unconcern, recorked a small bottle of lemon juice and pushedit out of sight behind a pile of sporting papers. Then, getting hissporting gun from the rack and stuffing a handful of cartridges intohis pocket, he signified his readiness to start.
"I wonder," mused the spy as the two men walked briskly down thelane--"I wonder what Barcroft meant yesterday: 'You must have anopportunity of making up for what you missed to-day.' Very strangethat he should say that. Yet can he know anything? I have beencareful enough, in all conscience."
His fingers came in contact with the loose cartridges. Grimly hereflected that they were of English manufacture. Previousacquaintance with sporting cartridges coming from the Fatherland hadmade him chary of using ammunition of German origin. There must be,he reflected, no misfires. An initial failure would upset his nerve.He could not muster up courage to make a second attempt on the sameday.
"You're rather quiet to-day, Norton," remarked his companion, as thetwo passed the scene of yesterday's adventure. "Not feeling quite upto the mark, eh? Or have I turned you out of house and home too soonafter breakfast?"
"I wasn't aware that I was," replied von Eitelwurmer. "In fact Ifeel remarkably fit. Those dogs of yours trained to the gun?"
"Quite, by this time," said Barcroft. "And as for turning a rabbitout of cover they're great. You wait till we set to work."
"Powerful-looking animals," continued the spy. "I suppose they wouldpull a man down?"
"They might," answered Peter cautiously. "But since an occasion fortesting their capabilities in that direction has not yetoccurred--and I hope it will not--I haven't any definite data uponwhich to base my assumption. They were a bit of a handful aspuppies," he continued warming to his subject, for the twosheep-dogs were practically part and parcel of Barcroft's existence."The predatory instinct was very strongly developed. They would goto my neighbours' houses early in the morning and systematically anddeliberately steal the milk. I've known them to take a jug as welland bring it back unbroken and deposit it as a kind of trophy on mylawn."
"You might have cut down your milk-bills," remarked his companion."For a Biblical precedent you have the case of the prophet who wasfed by ravens. I presume they stole from his neighbours. Were theirefforts confined purely to the milk-business?"
"Hardly," replied Peter. "In one instance they brought home a boot."
"Only one?"
"Only one," declared Barcroft solemnly.
"It was in an almost new condition. I made inquiries all overAlderdene but without success. No one had lost a boot. Quite a monthlater I discovered that a parson living at Barcroft, a village threemiles away, had missed one of his boots, and sure enough the onePonto and Nan brought in was the missing article. Apparently theyhad walked into the parson's scullery, and finding nothing in theedible line, had picked up the boot as a souvenir of the visit."
"They showed a total lack of common sense," said von Eitelwurmer."Now, if they had carried off the pair----"
"I should have had to return two boots instead of one," added hiscompanion. "But here we are. We'll work up against the wind and keepthe dogs to heel."
The sportsmen had gained the gently-sloping rise of Windyhill. Itwas the only side on which the ascent could be described as easy.The ground was grass-grown and interspersed with clusters of bushes,although the cover was by no means extensive. At the foot of therise flowed a small brook, which was crossed by a single plank.Beyond a hedge somewhat of a rarity in the North--through which wasa gap with a stile. From this point to the summit of the hill, adistance of nearly a mile, the only obstructions consisted of tworough stone walls running athwart the slope.
"We'll load after we're over the stile," said the cautious Peter."Be careful, there's quite a lot of snow under this hedge."
Von Eitelwurmer's answer was to slip and measure his length in thesoft snow.
"Donner--dash it all!" he exclaimed, hastily checking the naturalyet hitherto carefully avoided habit of forcibly expressing himselfin the language that came easiest to the tip of his tongue-that ofthe Fatherland. "You're right, Barcroft. It is confoundedlyslippery."
Picking up his gun that had fallen from his grasp the spy followedBarcroft over the stile. Here the two men loaded and Peter calledthe dogs to heel.
"Plenty of evidence that the bunnies are about," he remarked. "We'llkeep twenty yards apart. I don't suppose we'll catch sight of arabbit until we get to the bushes."
Stealthily and in silence the sportsmen approached the nearmostpatch of cover. Suddenly, a startled rabbit broke away and ran downwind. Up went Peter's gun, and the next instant bunny was kicking onthe ground.
"Why didn't you fire?" inquired Barcroft, as the two converged uponthe spoil. "The animal was across your path."
"Why didn't I?" repeated von Eitelwurmer. "I did. That was my shot.You didn't fire."
"But I did," declared Peter.
Both men ejected a still-smoking cartridge from their respectiveguns. They had fired simultaneously and the report had preventedeach sportsman from hearing the other's shot.
"Honours even," cried the spy. "It was certainly remarkable."
"Very," agreed Barcroft as he reloaded.
The first enclosure produced no further trophy. Scaling the low wallthe two men gained the second stretch of grazing land. Here thecover was slightly greater in extent.
"That's a favourite warren," said Barcroft, pointing to an irregularline of bushes. "You take the left side and I'll work round to theright. Ten to one you'll get a rattling good shot there. I'll keepthe dogs with me."
The sportsmen separated. Von Eitelwurmer, treading softly andcrouching under the bushes, allowed three rabbits to bolt almostunder his nose. It was not through preoccupation of mind but bydeliberate intent.
Once he stumbled over an exposed rock, and dropped his gun.
"That's the second time. This snow is dangerous," he muttered with acurse. "Is it an omen? And on the last occasion I nearly gave myselfaway."
He stopped to wipe some melting snow from the stock of his gun,wiping the
walnut wood carefully in order to ensure a good grip;then still crouching, he continued his way.
Two shots rang out in quick succession on his right, then, after aninstant, he saw Barcroft emerge from behind a bush and make for thenext patch of cover.
"Twenty yards--absolutely safe, shots will hardly have time tospread," soliloquised the spy, giving a quick glance over hisshoulder to see that there was no possibility of being overlookedfrom behind.
Then, setting his jaw firmly, he deliberately raised his gun to hisshoulder, took careful aim at the back of the unsuspecting Peter andpressed the trigger.