"And thank you," and a moment later we
heard his car chugging away down the drive.
We listened to it for a moment, then Godfrey yawned again.
"Come along, Lester," he said, "or I'll go to sleep on my feet. Can I
give you a bed, Simmonds?"
"No, thanks," said Simmonds. "I'm not ready for bed. I'm going to comb
this whole neighbourhood, as soon as it's light. Silva can't
escape--unless he just fades away into the air."
"You've found no trace of him?"
"I've had no reports yet," and Simmonds walked beside us down the
drive to the gate; "but my men ought to be coming in pretty soon.
There's a thick grove just across the road, where he may be
hiding...."
He stopped, for a man was hastening toward us, carrying under one arm
a small white bundle.
Simmonds quickened his pace.
"What's that you've got?" he asked.
The man saluted.
"I found it just now, sir, in the bushes near the gate. Looks like a
dress."
Simmonds unrolled it slowly. It was the robe of the White Priest of Siva.
Godfrey looked at it and then at Simmonds, whose face was a study.
Then he took me by the arm and led me away.
"I'm afraid Simmonds has his work cut out for him," he said, when we
were out of earshot.
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