"Are you often taken like that?" I inquired with a smile.
He turned round again and stared blankly. I imitated the movement of waving a hat, and laughed.
He was utterly taken aback, and looked rather foolish. I sat still and continued to smile at him. And then he broke into a smile himself.
"I was just waving on a friend," he explained, and I could detect a note of apology in his voice. For the moment he was completely hoodwinked. How long it would last Heaven knew, but I clearly could not afford to imitate Mr Asquith, and "wait and see."
And then I glanced at my wristlet watch, and sprang to my feet with an exclamation.
"By Jove, I'll be late!" I said, and picking up my cycle wheeled it briskly to the road, remarking genially as I went, "the days are not so long as they were!"
I never saw a man more obviously divided in mind. Was I the suspicious person he fancied at first? Or was I an honest and peaceable gentleman? Meanwhile I had cast one brief but sufficient glance along the road. Just at the foot of the steep hill down which I had come in the morning a man was mounting a motor-cycle. Beside him stood one or two others--country folk, so far as I could judge at the distance, and piecing things together, it seemed plain that my friend had lately been one of the party, and that the man they had been gossiping with was a motor-cyclist in search of me, who had actually paused to make inquiries within little over a quarter of a mile from where I sat. Quite possibly he had been there for some time, and almost certainly he would have ridden past without suspecting my presence if it had not been for the diabolical mishap of this chance encounter.
I had planted my cycle on the road, and was ready to mount before my friend had made up his mind what to do. Even then his procedure luckily lacked decision.
"Beg pardon, sir--!" he began, making a step towards me.
"Good evening!" I shouted, and the next instant the engine had started, and I was in my saddle.
Even then my pursuer had got up so much speed that he must surely have caught me had he not stopped to make inquiry of my late acquaintance. I was rounding a corner at the moment, and so was able to glance over my shoulder and see what was happening. The cyclist was then in the act of remounting, and I noted that he was in very dark clothes. It might or might not have been a uniform, but I fancied it was. Anyhow, I felt peculiarly little enthusiasm for making his acquaintance.