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ancient English customs – all that sort of thing. Marlowe introduced me to him as a sort of guide to rural England. Said he’d met me on the boat coming over, as of course he had. Anyway, I’ve let him the house. There’s a title of Lord of the Manor that goes with it, isn’t there?’
    Giles glanced up. ‘There is something like that, isn’t there, St Swithin?’
    The old man nodded and smiled. ‘There’s a document in the church to that effect,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what good it is to anybody nowadays, though.’
    â€˜Old Judge Lobbett liked it, anyway,’ said Mr Campion. ‘It gives the place a sort of medieval flavour. But I’ll come to that later. All that matters now is that the old bird has taken the place off your hands at fourteen quid a week. And if he knew as much as I do he’d realize he got it cheap.’
    Giles sat up. ‘You expect trouble?’ he said.
    Mr Campion nodded. ‘I don’t see how we can escape it,’ he said. ‘You see,’ he went on hastily, ‘I had to get the old boy out of the city and down here, because in a place like this if there’re any strangers knocking about we know at once. Look here, Giles, I shall need you to help me.’
    Giles grinned. ‘I’m with you,’ he said. ‘It’s time something happened down here.’
    â€˜And I’m in it too,’ said Biddy, that expression of determination which the others knew so well appearing at the corners of her mouth.
    Mr Campion shook his head. ‘Sorry, Biddy,’ he said, ‘I couldn’t have that. You don’t know what you’d be letting yourself in for. It was only in a fit of exuberance that I went into it myself.’
    Biddy sniffed. ‘I’m staying,’ she said. ‘Judge Lobbett has a daughter, hasn’t he? If she’s going to be in it, so am I. Besides, what would you three poor fish do without me? We’ll move over to the Dower House.’
    Mr Campion turned to the rector. ‘Bring your influence to bear, St Swithin. Tell her that this is stern stuff – no place for the tender sex.’
    The old man shook his head. ‘In the words of the poet, “I do remain as neuter”,’ he said. ‘Personally, I always obey her.’
    Mr Campion looked abashed. ‘You’re making it very awkward for me,’ he said. ‘I’d never have done it if I’d dreamed that I was bringing you into it, Biddy.’
    The girl laid her hand upon his knee. ‘Don’t be a fool,’ she said. ‘You silly old dear, I’m with you to the death. You know that.’
    Mr Campion almost blushed, and was silent for an appreciable space of time. The rector brought him back to thesubject on hand. ‘Let us be specific,’ he said. ‘No doubt you have your own dark secrets, Albert, but what are we expected to do?’
    Mr Campion plunged into the details of his scheme. ‘First of all,’ he said, ‘we’ve got to keep the old boy here. And that means we’ve got to keep him interested. St Swithin, I rely on you for the archaeology and whatnots. Show him the village trophies. Get out the relics of the witch burnings and polish up the stocks. Make it all bright and homely for him. Then there’s the doubtful Romney in the drawing room. Get his opinion on that. He’s a delightful old cove, but obstinate as sin.’
    He hesitated. ‘What he’s really interested in,’ he went on after a pause, ‘is actual folk-lore and superstition. Haven’t you any prize yokels who know a few ancient wisecracks? – old songs and that sort of thing?’
    Giles glanced up. ‘Plenty of those,’ he said. ‘Did I tell you, Biddy, I set George to cut down that dead thorn at the end of the home paddock this morning? When I passed by at lunchtime he grinned at me, as pleased as Punch –