going; but they were certainly going to the wilder and more silent
heights of the Heath. As their pursuers gained on them, the
latter had to use the undignified attitudes of the deer-stalker,
to crouch behind clumps of trees and even to crawl prostrate in
deep grass. By these ungainly ingenuities the hunters even came
close enough to the quarry to hear the murmur of the discussion,
but no word could be distinguished except the word "reason"
recurring frequently in a high and almost childish voice. Once
over an abrupt dip of land and a dense tangle of thickets, the
detectives actually lost the two figures they were following.
They did not find the trail again for an agonising ten minutes,
and then it led round the brow of a great dome of hill overlooking
an amphitheatre of rich and desolate sunset scenery. Under a tree
in this commanding yet neglected spot was an old ramshackle wooden
seat. On this seat sat the two priests still in serious speech
together. The gorgeous green and gold still clung to the darkening
horizon; but the dome above was turning slowly from peacock-green
to peacock-blue, and the stars detached themselves more and more
like solid jewels. Mutely motioning to his followers, Valentin
contrived to creep up behind the big branching tree, and, standing
there in deathly silence, heard the words of the strange priests
for the first time.

After he had listened for a minute and a half, he was gripped
by a devilish doubt. Perhaps he had dragged the two English
policemen to the wastes of a nocturnal heath on an errand no saner
than seeking figs on its thistles. For the two priests were
talking exactly like priests, piously, with learning and leisure,
about the most aerial enigmas of theology. The little Essex
priest spoke the more simply, with his round face turned to the