“Hush, Vandy, hush!” implored his sisters in agonized tones.

Berry raised his eyebrows.

“Really,” he said slowly, “anybody would think that you had something to hide.”

Then he turned on his heel.

I was about to follow his example, when my cousin’s bloodshot eye perceived that Nobby was once more Innocently investigating the scene of his labour.  With a choking cry our host sprang forward and raised the pick....

Unaware of his peril, the dog snuffed on.

One of the women screamed....

Desperately I flung myself forward.

The pick was falling as I struck it aside.  Viciously it jabbed its way into the earth.

For a long time Vandy and I faced one another, breathing heavily.  I watched the blood fading out of the fellow’s cheeks.  At length—­

“Be thankful,” said I, “that I was in time.  Otherwise——­”

I hesitated, and Vandy took a step backwards and put a hand to his throat.

“Exactly,” I said.

Then I plucked the pick from the ground, stepped a few paces apart, and, taking the implement with both hands, spun round and threw it from me as if it had been a hammer.

It sailed over some lime trees and crashed out of sight into some foliage.

Then I called the terrier and strode past my brother-in-law in the direction of the postern.

Berry fell in behind and followed me without a word.

* * * * *

“But why,” said I, “shouldn’t you tell me the day of your birth?  I’m not asking the year.”

“1895,” said Adele.

I sighed.

“Why,” she inquired, “do you want to know?”

“So that I can observe the festival as it deserves.  Spend the day at Margate, or go to a cinema, or something.  I might even wear a false nose.  You never know.  It’s an important date in my calendar.”

“How many people have you said that to?”

I laughed bitterly.

“If I told you the truth,” I said, “you wouldn’t believe me.”

There was a museful silence.

It was three days and more since Berry and I had visited The Lawn, and Vandy and Co. were still at work.  So much had been reported by an under-gardener.  For ourselves, we had finished with our cousins for good and all.  The brutal attack upon our favourite was something we could not forget, and for a man whom beastly rage could so much degrade we had no use.  Naturally enough, his sisters went with him.  Orders were given to the servants that to callers from Broken Ash Daphne was “not at home,” and we were one and all determined, so far as was possible, never to see or communicate with Vandy or his sisters again.  It was natural, however, that we should be deeply interested in the success or failure of his venture.  We prayed fervently, but without much hope, that it might fail....  After all, it was always on the cards that another had stumbled long since upon the treasure, or that a thief had watched its burial and later come privily and unearthed it.  We should see.