The Open House Read Online Free PDF Page B

quadrant-corridor. They were coming from outside the house.
    Appleby’s hypothesis, of course, still didn’t need to be abandoned. The learned Snodgrass was at hand, but still only traversing the terrace outside this part of the private wing. Yet there was surely something a little odd… Appleby strode rapidly to one of the uncurtained windows. For what he had heard couldn’t be described as conversation. It was much more like a hoarse whispering. And he had no sooner realized this than there came a sudden clatter as of some small metal object dropped on flags. There followed a muttered curse, and the sound of several pairs of rapidly retreating footsteps. By the time Appleby got the French window open silence had returned. And nowhere within the glow radiating from the house was the slightest movement to be seen.
    Appleby shut the window again, and turned back into the room. It was to find that he was no longer alone, for in the doorway of the library stood a very old man.
    ‘You’ve aged a great deal,’ the very old man said.

 
     
4
     
    ‘Professor Snodgrass?’Appleby began. ‘I owe you…’
    ‘But your eyes haven’t changed.’ Professor Snodgrass (who got along on a stick with a thick rubber tip) had taken a few steps forward, and was glancing at the photograph of the boy-soldier. ‘No, not since you were a child. Nor your nature either, I suppose.’ The Professor produced a chuckle which appeared to betoken indulgence rather than censure. ‘At least you keep your word – eh?’
    ‘My dear sir, you are quite mistaken. My name…’
    ‘Later than you might have done. But let that be, my dear boy. I have kept my word too. It’s one of our few family virtues, as your dear father used to say. The candle in the window, and the table spread. Have you had your supper yet?’
    ‘Professor Snodgrass, I am very sorry – but I have occasioned a total misapprehension. You are supposing me to be a relation, whereas I am an entire stranger. My name is Appleby, and I have no business at Ledward at all.’
    ‘No more you have. What a deuced odd thing!’ The Professor took out a watch and consulted it. ‘But the night remains young, and Adrian may turn up still. Did you say you were a friend of his? He has made an appointment with you?’
    ‘Nothing of the sort.’ The awkwardness of the occasion, Appleby reflected, was being enhanced by the fact that this aged academic person was no longer very fully in command of his wits. ‘It is simply that my car broke down a couple of miles away…’
    ‘That’s very bad – very bad, indeed.’ The Professor was suddenly emphatic. ‘Reliable transport, I have always insisted, is the vital condition of success in the field. Fire-power itself comes second to it. And my own vote is for camels, every time. I am delighted that you are interested in the subject. You and I must have a talk about the Sudan. I have been doing a good deal of work lately on the Juba River expedition of 1875. By the way, have you ever asked yourself why it took Sir Samuel Baker all that time to reach Gondokoro in 1870? We must take a careful look at the maps. Only tonight I am a little preoccupied by the arrival of my nephew Adrian Snodgrass, whom you no doubt know. Have the servants shown you to your room?’
    ‘No. You see…’
    ‘Ah, that is because there are no servants. Not here at the Park. My own people just come over, you see, from time to time.’ Professor Snodgrass paused, rather as if some perplexing problem had suddenly presented itself to him. And then his brow cleared. ‘And so do I,’ he said. ‘That accounts for my being here now.’ He fleetingly looked with great acuteness at Appleby. ‘But it doesn’t account for your being here. I’m far from certain there isn’t something damned fishy about you. I think perhaps I’d better call the police.’
    ‘By all means do. It’s an excellent idea. They will quite quickly be able to reassure you about me, as a matter of