As Campion stared at the figure he was obsessed by the uncanny feeling that it might move at any moment, that the mummified hands might snatch the sword from the wall and the great figure tower above the impious strangers who had disturbed his vigil. It was with relief that he heard the Colonel’s quiet voice. ‘If you are ready, gentlemen—’ No other word was spoken. Val retied the handkerchief and once again there was the grating of metal and the procession started on its return journey.
