Blind Love

The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no

doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible

discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and re-examined

the fragment, he announced his intention of sending the clerk on a

second errand--still without troubling himself to explain what his

incomprehensible instructions meant.

"If I am not mistaken," he began, "the Reading Rooms, in our town, open

as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the

stroke of the clock." He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay

open on his bed. "Ask the librarian," he continued, "for the third

volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' Open the

book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of

paper between those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is

looking at you, and bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in

mind that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you

again."

On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was not a man accustomed to

insist on what was due to his dignity. At the same time he was a

sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to which his

responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating

reserve, not even excused by a word of apology, reached the limits of

his endurance. He respectfully protested.

"I regret to find, sir," he said, "that I have lost my place in my

employer's estimation. The man to whom you confide the superintendence

of your clerks and the transaction of your business has, I venture to

think, some claim (under the present circumstances) to be trusted."

The banker was now offended on his side.

"I readily admit your claim," he answered, "when you are sitting at

your desk in my office. But, even in these days of strikes,

co-operations, and bank holidays, an employer has one privilege

left--he has not ceased to be a Man, and he has not forfeited a man's

right to keep his own secrets. I fail to see anything in my conduct

which has given you just reason to complain."

Dennis, rebuked, made his bow in silence, and withdrew.

Did these acts of humility mean that he submitted? They meant exactly

the contrary. He had made up his mind that Sir Giles Mountjoy's motives

should, sooner or later, cease to be mysteries to Sir Giles Mountjoy's

clerk.

II

Carefully following his instructions, he consulted the third volume of

Gibbon's great History, and found, between the seventy-eighth and

seventy-ninth pages, something remarkable this time.