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- Джон Джон Бакен
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- Стр. 11/83
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But
I
calculated
that
it
would
be
less
conspicuous
to
be
a
Scot
,
and
less
in
a
line
with
what
the
police
might
know
of
my
past
.
I
fixed
on
Galloway
as
the
best
place
to
go
.
It
was
the
nearest
wild
part
of
Scotland
,
so
far
as
I
could
figure
it
out
,
and
from
the
look
of
the
map
was
not
over
thick
with
population
.
A
search
in
Bradshaw
informed
me
that
a
train
left
St
Pancras
at
7.10
,
which
would
land
me
at
any
Galloway
station
in
the
late
afternoon
.
That
was
well
enough
,
but
a
more
important
matter
was
how
I
was
to
make
my
way
to
St
Pancras
,
for
I
was
pretty
certain
that
Scudder
's
friends
would
be
watching
outside
.
This
puzzled
me
for
a
bit
;
then
I
had
an
inspiration
,
on
which
I
went
to
bed
and
slept
for
two
troubled
hours
.
I
got
up
at
four
and
opened
my
bedroom
shutters
.
The
faint
light
of
a
fine
summer
morning
was
flooding
the
skies
,
and
the
sparrows
had
begun
to
chatter
.
I
had
a
great
revulsion
of
feeling
,
and
felt
a
God-forgotten
fool
.
My
inclination
was
to
let
things
slide
,
and
trust
to
the
British
police
taking
a
reasonable
view
of
my
case
.
But
as
I
reviewed
the
situation
I
could
find
no
arguments
to
bring
against
my
decision
of
the
previous
night
,
so
with
a
wry
mouth
I
resolved
to
go
on
with
my
plan
.
I
was
not
feeling
in
any
particular
funk
;
only
disinclined
to
go
looking
for
trouble
,
if
you
understand
me
.
I
hunted
out
a
well-used
tweed
suit
,
a
pair
of
strong
nailed
boots
,
and
a
flannel
shirt
with
a
collar
.
Into
my
pockets
I
stuffed
a
spare
shirt
,
a
cloth
cap
,
some
handkerchiefs
,
and
a
tooth-brush
.
I
had
drawn
a
good
sum
in
gold
from
the
bank
two
days
before
,
in
case
Scudder
should
want
money
,
and
I
took
fifty
pounds
of
it
in
sovereigns
in
a
belt
which
I
had
brought
back
from
Rhodesia
.
That
was
about
all
I
wanted
.
Then
I
had
a
bath
,
and
cut
my
moustache
,
which
was
long
and
drooping
,
into
a
short
stubbly
fringe
.
Now
came
the
next
step
.
Paddock
used
to
arrive
punctually
at
7.30
and
let
himself
in
with
a
latch-key
.
But
about
twenty
minutes
to
seven
,
as
I
knew
from
bitter
experience
,
the
milkman
turned
up
with
a
great
clatter
of
cans
,
and
deposited
my
share
outside
my
door
.
I
had
seen
that
milkman
sometimes
when
I
had
gone
out
for
an
early
ride
.
He
was
a
young
man
about
my
own
height
,
with
an
ill-nourished
moustache
,
and
he
wore
a
white
overall
.
On
him
I
staked
all
my
chances
.
I
went
into
the
darkened
smoking-room
where
the
rays
of
morning
light
were
beginning
to
creep
through
the
shutters
.
There
I
breakfasted
off
a
whisky-and-soda
and
some
biscuits
from
the
cupboard
.
By
this
time
it
was
getting
on
for
six
o'clock
.
I
put
a
pipe
in
my
pocket
and
filled
my
pouch
from
the
tobacco
jar
on
the
table
by
the
fireplace
.
As
I
poked
into
the
tobacco
my
fingers
touched
something
hard
,
and
I
drew
out
Scudder
's
little
black
pocket-book
...
That
seemed
to
me
a
good
omen
.
I
lifted
the
cloth
from
the
body
and
was
amazed
at
the
peace
and
dignity
of
the
dead
face
.
"
Goodbye
,
old
chap
,
"
I
said
;
"
I
am
going
to
do
my
best
for
you
.
Wish
me
well
,
wherever
you
are
.
"
Then
I
hung
about
in
the
hall
waiting
for
the
milkman
.
