“I confess I did notice,” he said gravely, “about New Year, I think, that when I went back to Mr. Urquhart both Round and Monk picked up their spirits. I had thought Round’s wits had gone for good and all. And I had thought Monk was getting much more nervous. But, as I say, I did notice that my going back there seemed to cheer them all up quite astonishingly! So⁠ ⁠… you see, Mr. Torp, I’m not at all ungrateful for your warning.” He got up as he spoke, and thrust his burden under his arm. “But the point remains,” he concluded, with an hilarity that was a little forced, “the point remains, what ought I to do to propitiate Providence and escape those terrible occurrences?”

Mr. Torp moved slowly to a mason’s shelf at the back of the shed and returned with his chisel. Then, armed with his professional weapon, the good man tapped the great slab of Ham Hill stone.