"Cray!" exclaimed the Major, staring at him; "did you fire that shot?"
And then to Brown: "I don't know whether you've met Colonel Cray of the Royal Artillery."
Colonel Cray was regarding his host with a strange and steady stare.
They passed out into the morning light, which was now even tinged with sunshine, and saw Colonel Cray's tall figure bent almost double, minutely examining the condition of gravel and grass.
Father Brown gathered, from the course of the conversation, that Cray, the other gourmet, had to leave before the usual lunch-time; but that Putnam, his host, not to be done out of a final feast with an old crony, had arranged for a special dejeuner to be set out and consumed in the course of the morning, while Audrey and other graver persons were at morning service.
During the last words Cray had sprung or staggered to his feet and was regarding the cleric with agitated eyes.
Cray paused; and Father Brown unaffectedly sat down on the lawn and began to pick daisies.
"Plenty of those, though not much use, I fear," replied Cray; "but by all means come into his study."
Cray introduced him civilly enough, as Dr Oman, but he showed such disfavour in his very face that Brown guessed the two men, whether Audrey knew it or not, were rivals.
Cray seemed to find something specially irritating in the small prayer-book in Oman's dark-gloved hand.
Cray slipped upstairs to change; Dr Oman and Miss Watson betook themselves solemnly down the street, with a string of other churchgoers; but Father Brown noticed that the doctor twice looked back and scrutinized the house; and even came back to the corner of the street to look at it again.
Before he could quite recover himself Cray had cloven in.