The right-hand window, beneath
which there was a permanent wooden seat, commanded an unobstructed view
of the Tudor garden in the grounds of Cray's Folly. Clearly I could
detect the speck of high-light upon the top of the sun-dial.
The Inspector stepped into the hut. It contained a bookshelf upon which
a number of books remained, a table and a chair, with some few other
dilapidated appointments. I glanced at Harley and saw that he was
staring as if hypnotized at the prospect in the valley below. I
observed a constable on duty at the top of the steps which led down
into the Tudor garden, but I could see nothing to account for Harley's
fixed regard, until:
"Pardon me one moment, Inspector," he muttered, brusquely.
Brushing past the indignant Aylesbury, who was examining the contents
of the shelves in the hut, he knelt upon the wooden seat and stared
intently through the open window.
"One-two-three-four-five-six-_seven_," he chanted. "Good! That will
settle it."
"Oh, I see," said Inspector Aylesbury, standing strictly upright, his
prominent eyes turned in the direction of the kneeling Harley. "One,
two, three, four, and so on will settle it, eh? If you don't mind me
saying so, it was settled already.
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