A moment later Bates entered with a fresh supply of
wood. I watched him narrowly for some sign of perturbation,
but he was not to be caught off guard. Possibly
he had not heard the shots in the wood; at any
rate, he tended the fire with his usual gravity, and after
brushing the hearth paused respectfully.
"Is there anything further, sir?"
"I believe not, Bates. Oh! here's a hammer I picked
up out in the grounds a bit ago. I wish you'd see if it
belongs to the house."
He examined the implement with care and shook his
head.
"It doesn't belong here, I think, sir. But we sometimes
find tools left by the carpenters that worked on
the house. Shall I put this in the tool-chest, sir?"
"Never mind. I need such a thing now and then and
I'll keep it handy."
"Very good, Mr. Glenarm. It's a bit sharper to-night,
but we're likely to have sudden changes at this season."
"I dare say."
We were not getting anywhere; the fellow was certainly
an incomparable actor.
"You must find it pretty lonely here, Bates. Don't
hesitate to go to the village when you like."
"I thank you, Mr. Glenarm; but I am not much for
idling. I keep a few books by me for the evenings. Annandale
is not what you would exactly call a diverting
village."
"I fancy not. But the caretaker over at the summer
resort has even a lonelier time, I suppose. That's what
I'd call a pretty cheerless job,-watching summer cottages
in the winter."
"That's Morgan, sir. I meet him occasionally when
I go to the village; a very worthy person, I should call
him, on slight acquaintance."
"No doubt of it, Bates. Any time through the winter
you want to have him in for a social glass, it's all
right with me."
He met my gaze without flinching, and lighted me
to the stair with our established ceremony. I voted him
an interesting knave and really admired the cool way
in which he carried off difficult situations. I had no
intention of being killed, and now that I had due warning
of danger, I resolved to protect myself from foes
without and within. Both Bates and Morgan, the caretaker,
were liars of high attainment. Morgan was,
moreover, a cheerful scoundrel, and experience taught
me long ago that a knave with humor is doubly dangerous.
Before going to bed I wrote a long letter to Larry
Donovan, giving him a full account of my arrival at
Glenarm House. The thought of Larry always cheered
me, and as the pages slipped from my pen I could feel
his sympathy and hear him chuckling over the lively beginning
of my year at Glenarm. The idea of being fired
upon by an unseen foe would, I knew, give Larry a real
lift of the spirit.