Parish planted his feet apart, put his head on one side, and looked at Legge with the expression he used in films of the Bulldog Drummond type. His voice drawled slightly.

‘Feelin’ nervous, Legge?’ he asked. ‘Now isn’t that a pity.’

‘Nervous! I am not nervous, Mr Parish. What do you mean by—’

‘Gentlemen,’ said old Abel.

There was a brief silence broken by an urgent clatter of footsteps on the stairs.

The door into the private tap swung open. Alleyn stood on the threshold. When Miss Darragh saw his face she uttered a sharp cry that was echoed, oddly, by Parish.

Alleyn said:

‘Nobody is to move from this room. Understand? What’s Dr Shaw’s telephone number?’

Abel said, ‘Illington 579, sir.’

Alleyn kicked the door wide open and moved to the wall telephone just outside. He dialled a number and came into the doorway with the receiver at his ear.

‘You understand,’ he said, ‘none of you is to move. Where’s Cubitt?’

‘He’s gone out,’ said Parish. ‘What’s the matter, Mr Alleyn, for God’s sake.’

Alleyn was speaking into the receiver.

‘Dr Shaw? At once, please, it’s the police.’ He eyed them all as he waited.

‘There has been an accident,’ he said. ‘Where’s that decanter of sherry?’

‘Here, sir,’ said Abel.

‘Take it by the end of the neck, lock it in the cupboard behind you, and bring the key to me. That you, Shaw? Alleyn. Come at once. Same trouble as last time. I’ve given an emetic. It’s worked, but he’s half-collapsed. I’ll do artificial respiration. For God’s sake be quick.’

He clicked the receiver and took the key Abel brought him. He dialled another number and spoke to Abel as he dialled it.

‘Lock the shutters and all the doors. Both bars. Bring the keys here. Illington Police Station? Oates? Inspector Alleyn. I want Mr Harper and yourself at once at the Plume of Feathers. Jump to it.’

He hung up the receiver. Abel was clattering round the public bar. Alleyn slammed the shutters in the private bar.

‘If any one opens these shutters or tries to leave this room,’ he said, ‘there will be an arrest on a charge of attempted murder. Bring those others through here.’

‘But, look here—’ said Parish.

‘Quiet!’ said Alleyn and was obeyed. Abel shepherded a couple of astonished fishermen into the private bar. Will Pomeroy followed. Abel slammed down the bar shutter and locked it. He came to Alleyn and gave him the keys. Alleyn pushed him outside, slammed the door and locked it.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘come up here.’