Yes, there had been a short but steep hill; and immediately
before this the car had passed over a deeply rutted road, or--he
had a sudden inspiration--over a level crossing.
He knew of just such a hilly road immediately behind Lower
Claybury station. Indeed, it was that by which he should be
compelled to descend if he continued to pursue his present route
to the town. He could think of no large, detached house, the
Manor Park excepted, which corresponded to the one which he
sought. But that in taking the high road he had acted even more
wisely than he knew, he was now firmly convinced.
He determined to proceed as far as the park gates as speedily as
possible. Therefore, returning to the wheel, he sent the car
along the now level road at top speed, so that the railings of
the Manor Park, when presently he found himself skirting the
grounds, had the semblance of a continuous iron fence wherever
the moonlight touched them.
He passed the head of the road dipping down to Lower Claybury,
but forty yards beyond pulled up and descended. Again he stood
listening, and:
"Good!" he muttered.
He could hear the other car labouring up the slope. He ran along
to the corner of the lane, and, crouching close under the bushes,
waited for its appearance. As he had supposed, the chauffeur
turned the car to the right.
"Good!" muttered Nicol Brinn again.
There was a baggage-rack immediately above the number plate.
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