of his patent-leather shoes and sighed. He

405

felt forlorn and very much alone. The

standards by which he lived were here

not appreciated.

His eyes swept slowly up and down the

desolate coast line, then once more out to

sea. Somewhere out there, so tradition had

it, were the Isles of the Blest, the Land of

Youth....

He murmured to himself:

"The Apple Tree, the Singing and the

Gold...."

And suddenly, Hercule Poirot was himself

again --the spell was broken, he was

once more in harmony with his patentleather

shoes and natty, dark grey gent's

suiting.

Not very far away he had heard the toll

of a bell. He understood that bell. It was

a sound he had been familiar with from

early youth.

He set off briskly along the cliff. In

about ten minutes he came in sight of the

building on the cliff. A high wall surrounded

it and a great wooden door

studded with nails was set in the wall.

Hercule Poirot came to this door and

knocked. There was a vast iron knocker.

Then he cautiously pulled at a rusty chain

406

and a shrill little bell tinkled briskly inside

the door.

A small panel in the door was pushed

aside and showed a face. It was a suspicious

face, framed in starched white.

There was a distinct moustache on the

upper lip, but the voice was the voice of a

woman, it was the voice of what Hercule

Poirot called ^femme formidable.

It demanded his business.

"Is this the Convent of St. Mary and

All Angels ?"

The formidable woman said with asperity:

"And what else would it be ?"

Hercule Poirot did not attempt to answer

that. He said to the dragon:

cc! would like to see the Mother

Superior.3'

The dragon was unwilling, but in the

end she yielded. Bars were drawn back, the door opened and Hercule Poirot was conducted to a small bare room

where visitors to the Convent were received.

Presently a nun glided in, her rosary

swinging at her waist.

Hercule Poirot was a Catholic by birth.

LOH27407

He understood the atmosphere in which

he found himself.

"I apologise for troubling you, ma

mere," he said, "but you have here, I think, a religieuse who was, in the world, Kate Casey."

The Mother Superior bowed her head.

She said:

"That is so. Sister Mary Ursula in

religion."

Hercule Poirot said: "There is a certain

wrong that needs righting. I believe that

Sister Mary Ursula could help me. She

has information that might be invaluable."

The Mother Superior shook her head.

Her face was placid, her voice calm and

remote. She said:

"Sister Mary Ursula cannot help you."

"But I assure you --"

He broke off. The Mother Superior said:

"Sister Mary Ursula died two months

ago."

V

In the saloon bar of Jimmy Donovan's

Hotel, Hercule Poirot sat uncomfortably

against the wall. The hotel did not come

408

up to his ideas of what a hotel should be.