Page:The Toll of the Bush.pdf/56

Sandy stood patiently by till the other came out of his reverie. ‘Would a month hence be too late for you?’ he was asked at length.

‘No,’ he replied, ‘that would do.’

‘Well, I will talk it over with Robert, and let you know as soon as we come to a decision.’

‘Good,’ said Sandy cheerfully. ‘Well, I don’t want to get caught in the dark. I’ll just run over and shake hands with Robert, then I’m off. By the way, there’s a note from Eve in the game bag, and help yourself to a couple of pigeons at the same time.’

Sandy crossed over to Robert, and stood talking earnestly for five or ten minutes, while Geoffrey went into the house, and turned the contents of the game bag out on to the table. The envelope was twisted at one end, and tied to the network, evidently that its delivery might not be overlooked. It was blood-stained, and a momentary anger at Sandy’s carelessness stirred him as he cut the string. Suddenly, as he stood looking at his name with the blot of blood across it, there came on him one of those strange, fleeting aberrations which are said to be due to one hemisphere of the brain acting in advance of the other. Something of this had happened before. The impression was momentary, no more than a flash, but as a flash it was vivid. Geoffrey stood for awhile trying to reconstruct the experience, endeavouring to refer it to some parallel event in the past, but the more he concentrated his mind on its elucidation the more visionary it became. Finally he opened the letter. The blood had soaked through the envelope, and in accordance with the manner in which the paper was folded its effects