Across from the yard, to the left hand side of the main building, stood a stable block and coach-house, also ivy clad. The stable block had a white painted timber dovecote straddling the ridge of the roof. A pair of grey doves circled the dovecote as if unsure which of the arched openings was their allocated nest. Then both birds suddenly decided, wheeled about and glided gracefully down to their abode, twitching their rumps saucily as they hopped into the nest.
Motioning caution with his hand, Collingwood and the others slowly made their way closer to the drive. Gimlet tapped Collingwood on the elbow and pointed. A black coach stood before the house, horses in harness, seemingly unfazed by the approach of four strangers. Collingwood nodded to indicate that he had already seen it. ‘Looks
