Adrian said under his breath: ‘Homewards.’
‘To the East?’ said Hilary. ‘On then, Fleur, not too fast.’
Fleur headed the car up the Downs road.
‘Feel in my coat, you’ll find three apples,’ she said, ‘I caught them up.’
‘What a head!’ said Hilary. ‘But you’ll want them yourself.’
‘No. I’m slimming. You can leave me one.’
The brothers, munching each an apple, kept their eyes fixed on the woods on either side of the car.
‘Too thick,’ said Hilary; ‘he’ll be carrying on to the open. If you sight him, Fleur, stop dead.’
But they did not sight him, and, mounting slower and slower, reached the top. To their right was the round beech tree clump of Duncton, to the left the open Down; no figure was on the road in front.
‘Not ahead,’ said Hilary. ‘We’ve got to decide, old man.’
‘Take my advice, and let me drive you home, Uncle Hilary.’
‘Shall we, Adrian?’
Adrian shook his head.
‘I shall go on.’
‘All right, I’m with you.’
‘Look!’ said Fleur suddenly, and pointed.
Some fifty yards in, along a rough track leaving the road to the left, lay a dark object.
‘It’s a coat, I think.’
Adrian jumped out and ran towards it. He returned with a blue overcoat over his arm.
‘No doubt now,’ he said. ‘Either he was sitting there and left it by mistake, or he tired of carrying it. It’s a bad sign, whichever it was. Come along, Hilary! ’
He dropped the coat in the car.
‘What orders for me, Uncle Hilary?’
‘You’ve been a brick, my dear. Would you be still more of a brick and wait here another hour? If we’re not back by then, go down and keep close along under the Downs slowly by way of Sutton Bignor and West Burton, then if there’s no sign of us anywhere along that way, take the main road through Pulborough back to London. If you’ve any money to spare, you might lend us some.’
Fleur took out her bag.
‘Three pounds. Shall I give you two?’
‘Gratefully received,’ said Hilary. ‘Adrian and I never have any money. We’re the poorest family in England, I do believe. Good-bye, my dear, and thank you! Now, old man!’
Chapter Twenty-eight
WAVING their hands to where Fleur stood by her car with the remaining apple raised to her lips, the two brothers took the track on to the Down.
‘You lead,’ said Hilary; ‘you’ve got the best eyes, and your clothes are less conspicuous. If you sight him, we’ll consult.’
They came almost at once on a long stretch of high wire fence running across the Down.
‘It ends there to the left,’ said Adrian; ‘we’ll go round it above the woods; the lower we keep the better.’
They kept round it on the hillside over grass rougher and more uneven, falling into a climber’s loping stride as if once more they were off on some long and difficult ascent. The doubt whether they would catch up with Ferse, what they could do if they did, and the knowledge that it might be a maniac with whom they had to deal, brought to both their faces a look that soldiers have, and sailors, and men climbing mountains, of out-staring what was before them.
They had crossed an old and shallow chalk working and were mounting the few feet to the level on its far side, when Adrian dropped back and pulled Hilary down.
‘He’s there,’ he whispered; ‘about seventy yards ahead!’
‘See you?’
‘No. He looks wild. His hat’s gone, and he’s gesticulating. What shall we do?’
‘Put your head up through that bush.’
Adrian knelt, watching. Ferse had ceased to gesticulate, he was standing with arms crossed and his bare head bent. His back was to Adrian, and, but for that still, square, wrapped-in attitude, there was nothing to judge from. He suddenly uncrossed his arms, shook his head from side to side and began to walk rapidly on. Adrian waited till he had disappeared among the bushes on the slope, and beckoned Hilary to follow.
‘We mustn’t let him get too far ahead,’ muttered Hilary, ‘or we shan’t know whether he’s taken to the wood.’
‘He’ll keep to the open, he wants air, poor devil. Look out!’ He pulled Hilary down again. The ground had suddenly begun to dip. It sloped right down to a grassy hollow, and halfway down the slope they could see Ferse plainly. He was walking slowly, clearly unconscious of pursuit. Every now and then his hands would go up to his bare head, as if to clear away something that entangled it.
‘God!’ murmured Adrian: ‘I hate to see him.’