Nevertheless, it appeared, rogues sometimes fell out. Ern had succumbed to the offer of a hundred pounds to leave a powerful saloon car unattended for a few minutes at a pre-arranged spot; but before he could receive the money, someone had managed to reach him with a warning not to keep the appointment. The police were in action. That evening he had melted away, and Stotwell had gained a new citizen. All this had happened a mere four months previously, so that Ern’s statement to Charles that he had been in Stotwell ‘a year or two’ was simply a piece of caution; Charles had not the heart to think of it as a lie, for, after all, what was it to him how long Ern had been there?

Impersonally, casually, the case was assessed. A first offence; on the other hand the prisoner had made an unusually determined effort to evade the law. Eighteen months’ imprisonment.

That was that. Suddenly Charles felt that his feeling for Ern had evaporated, leaving yet another vacuum inside him. He watched the stocky toothless figure led away, out of the court and out of his life, without emotion. Their association had been, after all, simply a convenience to both of them; a place to hide, for each was a fugitive. It was this shared predicament that had led to the quick formation of the intuitive bond between them, and, now that for one of them the game was up, that bond parted easily and at once. He rose, and, pushing his way to the end of the row, left the courtroom.

Feet clattered down the stone stairs after him. Evidently some­one else was leaving too. On emerging into the street, Charles paused for a moment with a hint of the old irresolution, and the other was beside him.

Not only that, but he had halted. Charles glanced sideways and saw a tall, gangling young man dressed in expensive outdoor clothes; a heavy tweed jacket with slits up the back, twill trousers, brogues. He had a flashing wrist-watch and a tie of good material but poor design. He looked like someone who earned more money than he found it advisable to declare for Income Tax, and consequently spent it. His eyes were on Charles’s face, and, when Charles looked at him, he spoke at once.

‘Interesting, that last case,’ he said. His voice was light and rapid, with something of a county accent which shared the faintly uneasy quality of his clothing.

Something made Charles reply, ‘Very. Especially to me, I know the man. Knew him, I suppose I ought to say.’

‘What?’ cried the tall young man. ‘You know Ernie Ollershaw?’