I gave you ?"

"Nothing doing there. Miss Everitt died

of ulcerative colitis. Doctor quite positive

there was no hanky-panky. Mrs. Lloyd

died of broncho-pneumonia. Lady Western

died of tuberculosis. Had suffered from it

many years ago --before she even met this

bunch. Miss Lee died of typhoid--attributed

to some salad she ate somewhere

in the north of England. Three of them

got ill and died in their own homes, and

Mrs. Lloyd died in a hotel in the south of

France. As far as those deaths go, there's

nothing to connect them with the Great

Flock or with Andersen's place down in

364

Devonshire. Must be pure coincidence.

All absolutely OK and according to

Cocker."

Hercule Poirot sighed. He said:

"And yet, mon cher, 1 have a feeling that

this is the tenth Labour of Hercules, and

that this Dr. Andersen is the Monster

Geryon whom it is my mission to destroy."

Japp looked at him anxiously.

"Look here, Poirot, you haven't been

reading any queer literature yourself lately, have you ?" Poirot said with dignity:

"My remarks are, as always, apt, sound, and to the point."

"You might start a new religion yourself,"

said Japp, "with the creed: 'There

is no one so clever as Hercule Poirot, Amen,

DC. Repeat adiib;

III

"It is the peace here that I find so wonderful," said Miss Camaby, breathing heavily

and ecstatically.

"I told you so, Amy," said Emmeline

Clegg.

The two friends were sitting on the

slope of a hillside overlooking a deep and

365

lovely blue sea. The grass was vivid green, the earths and the cliffs a deep, glowing red. The little estate now known as Green

Hills Sanctuary was a promontory comprising

about six acres. Only a narrow neck

of land joined it to the mainland so that it

was almost an island.

Mrs. Clegg murmured sentimentally:

"The red land --the land of glow and

promise--where three-fold destiny is to

be accomplished."

Miss Camaby sighed deeply and said:

"I thought the Master put it all so

beautifully at the service last night."

"Wait," said her friend, "for the festival tonight. The Full Growth of the Pasture!"

"I'm looking forward to it," said Miss

Carnaby.

"You will find it a wonderful spiritual

experience," her friend promised her.

Miss Camaby had arrived at Green Hills

Sanctuary a week previously. Her attitude

on arrival had been: "Now what's all this

nonsense? Really, Emmie, a sensible

woman like you --etc., etc."

At a preliminary interview with Dr.

Andersen, she had conscientiously made

her position quite clear.

366

"I don't want to feel that I am here under

false pretences. Dr. Andersen. My father

was a clergyman of the Church of England

and I have never wavered in my faith. I

don't hold with heathen doctrines."

The big, golden-haired man had smiled

at her—a very sweet and understanding

smile. He had looked indulgently at the

plump, rather belligerent figure sitting so

squarely in her chair.

"Dear Miss Camaby," he said. "You

are Mrs. Clegg's friend, and as such