There was food for thought in what he said. He had
taken punishment in defense of my property-the crack
on his head was undeniable-and I could not abuse
him or question his veracity with any grace; not, at
least, without time for investigation and study. However,
I ventured to ask him one question.
"If you were guessing, shouldn't you think it quite
likely that Morgan was the other man?"
He met my gaze squarely.
"I think it wholly possible, Mr. Glenarm."
"And the man who helped you-who in the devil was
he?"
"Bless me, I don't know. He disappeared. I'd like
mightily to see him again."
"Humph! Now you'd better do something for your
head. I'll summon the village doctor if you say so."
"No; thank you, sir. I'll take care of it myself."
"And now we'll keep quiet about this. Don't mention
it or discuss it with any one."
"Certainly not, sir."
He rose, and staggered a little, but crossed to the
broad mantel-shelf in the great chimney-breast, rested
his arm upon it for a moment, passed his hand over the
dark wood with a sort of caress, then bent his eyes upon
the floor littered with books and drawings and papers
torn from the cabinets and all splashed with tallow and
wax from the candles. The daylight had increased until
the havoc wrought by the night's visitors was fully apparent.
The marauders had made a sorry mess of the
room, and I thought Bates' lip quivered as he saw the
wreck.
"It would have been a blow to Mr. Glenarm; the room
was his pride,-his pride, sir."
He went out toward the kitchen, and I ran up stairs
to my own room. I cursed the folly that had led me to
leave my window open, for undoubtedly Morgan and
his new ally, St. Agatha's gardener, had taken advantage
of it to enter the house. Quite likely, too, they had
observed my absence, and this would undoubtedly be
communicated to Pickering. I threw open my door
and started back with an exclamation of amazement.
Standing at my chiffonnier, between two windows,
was a man, clad in a bath-gown-my own, I saw with
fury-his back to me, the razor at his face, placidly
shaving himself.
Without turning he addressed me, quite coolly and
casually, as though his being there was the most natural
thing in the world.
"Good morning, Mr. Glenarm! Rather damaging
evidence, that costume. I suppose it's the custom of the
country for gentlemen in evening clothes to go out by
the window and return by the door. You might think
the other way round preferable."
"Larry!" I shouted.
"Jack!"
"Kick that door shut and lock it," he commanded, in
a sharp, severe tone that I remembered well-and just
now welcomed-in him.
"How, why and when-?"
"Never mind about me. I'm here-thrown the enemy
off for a few days; and you give me lessons in current
history first, while I climb into my armor. Pray pardon
the informality-"