A young man of gentlemanly appearance confronted him with an ingenuous, open countenance; with an honest eye and a graceful manner. In the teeth of these advantages there was an expression of anxiety on his face which denoted that his errand was one upon which grave issues depended.
"You, Mr. Reginald!" exclaimed Abel Death, staring open mouthed at the visitor.
"As you see, Mr. Death," replied Mr. Reginald. "You are still in the old place."
"Yes, Mr. Reginald, yes, still in the old place."
Mr. Reginald's eyes travelled round the room. "Where's my father?" he asked.
Abel Death answered in Irish fashion.
"How did you get in?"
Mr. Reginald held up a key.
"You don't mean to say----" stammered Abel Death.
"That I stole it?" said Mr. Reginald. "No. It is the old key which I took away with me when I left this house----"