There was daylight left. George, realizing that his instructions of the morning were now to be disregarded, accelerated as soon as Oxford was left behind. He had taken the Woodstock Road, and the landscape became ghostly. By the time they reached Chipping Norton it was dark. It had been the chauffeur’s own fancy to take the Woodstock Road instead of the shorter and more usual route westward through Eynsham, Witney and Burford, and Mrs Bradley often wondered afterwards what had prompted his decision, for at just beyond Chipping Norton the car ran out of petrol.

‘I can’t think what’s happened, madam,’ said George, greatly distressed. ‘I filled up in Oxford while you were lunching at the Mitre. I thought we had enough already to take us through, but to make quite sure I saw the tank filled at the Long Wall Street garage. I can’t make it out at all. I’m very sorry, madam.’

‘Are we leaking?’ Mrs Bradley enquired.

‘No, madam. There seems nothing wrong. All the same, we’ve run dry. My best plan would be to walk back into Chipping Norton and bring back a man and some cans of juice. I’ve got coupons for more than we shall want. We’ve less than another forty miles to do all told. I can get the garage chap to help look for a leak if he helps me to carry the petrol. I’ll fix it, madam, don’t you worry.’

‘I should not dream of worrying, George. I have implicit faith in you. Such implicit faith that – never mind. Do as you suggest.’

As soon as her man had gone, she took out her little revolver, inspected it, settled herself comfortably and awaited her chauffeur’s return. She was not seriously anticipating danger, but she could not help wondering what would have happened if the car had taken the Burford road and had stopped before it reached Northleach.

She blamed herself for the theft of the petrol – for that was what it had been; she was clear about that. George had brought the car round to the house of her friends at just after four, and she, knowing that she was staying until six, had sent out to tell him to go and get some tea and not to hurry over it, but to leave the car where it was.

It must have been during his absence that the petrol had been siphoned out of the tank. The street was a very quiet one. It would have been easy enough for anybody with sufficient nerve to have done the deed whilst the party inside the house were in the drawing room, which overlooked the back garden. Between four o’clock and five the chances were that not a soul had been about.