"Your tribe?"
"Surely, I have a tribe. They fight for my hand and for my friends."
I regarded him with increased respect.
"That has a delightfully mediæval sound. It strikes me you are going to be the most valuable member of this expedition."
"All for one, and one for all," laughed Nikka.
He waved a greeting to Hugh, who came in at that moment.
"We are talking about Gypsies and fighting," he explained.
"And it seems that Nikka is a potentate who has a tribe to carry out his wishes," I amended.
"I wish we had his tribe here to help us pull down this old stone-box," answered Hugh gloomily. "How else are we going to uncover any hiding-places? And I feel like fighting when I remember that we are going to Uncle James's funeral this morning. Well, the best way to fight, I suppose, is to search. That's the family motto. Jack, you'll have a first rate opportunity to investigate early structural methods in English architecture. I expect you'll be the only one to get anything out of the affair."
Which last was a very poor piece of prophecy.