The following day brought several more guests and with two days yet to go to the

start of the conference, Darlington Hall was filled with people of all

nationalities, talking in rooms, or else standing around, apparently aimlessly,

in the hall, in corridors and on landings, examining pictures or objects. The

guests were never less than courteous to one another, but for all that, a rather

tense atmosphere, characterized largely by distrust, seemed to prevail at this

stage. And reflecting this unease, the visiting valets and footmen appeared to

regard one another with marked coldness and my own staff were rather glad to be

too busy to spend much time with them.

 

It was around this point, in the midst of dealing with the many demands being

made on my attention, that I happened to glance out of a window and spotted the

figure of the young Mr Cardinal taking some fresh air around the grounds. He was

clutching his attaché case as usual and I could see he was strolling slowly

along the path that runs the outer perimeter of the lawn, deeply absorbed in

thought. I was of course reminded of my mission regarding the young gentleman

and it occurred to me that an outdoor setting, with the general proximity of

nature, and in particular the example of the geese close at hand, would not be

an unsuitable setting at all in which to convey the sort of message I was

bearing. I could see, moreover, that if I were quickly to go outside and conceal

my person behind the large rhododendron bush beside the path, it would not be

long before Mr Cardinal came by. I would then be able to emerge and convey my

message to him. It was not, admittedly, the most subtle of strategies, but you

will appreciate that this particular task, though no doubt important in its way,

hardly took the highest priority at that moment.