“Oh, for God’s sake sit down,” burst out Cayley.  “Or go outside if you want to walk about.”

Bill turned round in astonishment.

“Hallo, what’s the matter?”

Cayley was slightly ashamed of his outburst.

“Sorry, Bill,” he apologized.  “My nerves are on edge.  Your constant tapping and fidgeting about—­”

“Tapping?” said Bill with an air of complete surprise.

“Tapping on the shelves, and humming.  Sorry.  It got on my nerves.”

“My dear old chap, I’m awfully sorry.  I’ll go out in the hall.”

“It’s all right,” said Cayley, and went on with his letter.  Bill sat down in his chair again.  Had Antony understood?  Well, anyhow, there was nothing to do now but wait for Cayley to go.  “And if you ask me,” said Bill to himself, much pleased, “I ought to be on the stage.  That’s where I ought to be.  The complete actor.”

A minute, two minutes, three minutes .... five minutes.  It was safe now.  Antony had guessed.

“Is the car there?” asked Cayley, as he sealed up his letter.

Bill strolled into the hall, called back “Yes,” and went out to talk to the chauffeur.  Cayley joined him, and they stood there for a moment.

“Hallo,” said a pleasant voice behind them.  They turned round and saw Antony.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Bill.”

With a tremendous effort Bill restrained his feelings, and said casually enough that it was all right.

“Well, I must be off,” said Cayley.  “You’re going down to the village?”

“That’s the idea.”

“I wonder if you’d take this letter to Jallands for me?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks very much.  Well, I shall see you later.”

He nodded and got into the car.

As soon as they were alone Bill turned eagerly to his friend.

“Well?” he said excitedly.

“Come into the library.”

They went in, and Tony sank down into a chair.

“You must give me a moment,” he panted.  “I’ve been running.”

“Running?”

“Well, of course.  How do you think I got back here?”

“You don’t mean you went out at the other end?”

Antony nodded.

“I say, did you hear me tapping?”

“I did, indeed.  Bill, you’re a genius.”

Bill blushed.

“I knew you’d understand,” he said.  “You guessed that I meant Cayley?”

“I did.  It was the least I could do after you had been so brilliant.  You must have had rather an exciting time.”

“Exciting?  Good Lord, I should think it was.”

“Tell me about it.”

As modestly as possible, Mr. Beverley explained his qualifications for a life on the stage.

“Good man,” said Antony at the end of it.  “You are the most perfect Watson that ever lived.  Bill, my lad,” he went on dramatically, rising and taking Bill’s hand in both of his, “There is nothing that you and I could not accomplish together, if we gave our minds to it.”