d got back unobserved to the house and reported to
Antony, they were going to explore the secret passage! Again, what fun!
Unfortunately there seemed to be no chance of buried treasure, but there
might be buried clues. Even if you found nothing, you couldn't get away
from the fact that a secret passage was a secret passage, and anything
might happen in it. But even that wasn't the end of this exciting day.
They were going to watch the pond that night; they were going to watch
Cayley under the moonlight, watch him as he threw into the silence of
the pond what? The revolver? Well, anyhow, they were going to watch him.
What fun!

To Antony, who was older and who realized into what deep waters they
were getting, it did not seem fun. But it was amazingly interesting.
He saw so much, and yet somehow it was all out of focus. It was like
looking at an opal, and discovering with every movement of it some new
colour, some new gleam of light reflected, and yet never really seeing
the opal as a whole. He was too near it, or too far away; he strained
his eyes and he relaxed his eyes; it was no good. His brain could not
get hold of it.

But there were moments when he almost had it.... and then turned away
from it. He had seen more of life than Bill, but he had never seen
murder before, and this which was in his mind now, and to which he was
afraid to listen, was not just the hot-blooded killing which any man
may come to if he lose control. It was something much more horrible. Too
horrible to be true. Then let him look again for the truth. He looked
again but it was all out of focus.

"I will not look again," he said aloud, as he began to walk towards
the house. "Not yet, anyway." He would go on collecting facts and
impressions. Perhaps the one fact would come along, by itself which
would make everything clear.

CHAPTER XIV. Mr. Beverley Qualifies for the Stage

Bill had come back, and had reported, rather breathless, that Cayley was
still at the pond.

"But I don't think they're getting up much except mud," he said. "I ran
most of the way back so as to give us as much time as possible."

Antony nodded.

"Well, come along, then," he said. "The sooner, the quicker."

They stood in front of the row of sermons. Antony took down the Reverend
Theodore Ussher's famous volume, and felt for the spring. Bill pulled.
The shelves swung open towards them.

"By Jove!" said Bill, "it is a narrow way."

There was an opening abo