“Phineas,” he said in an agitated voice, “Phineas! How came that into my pocket?”
The valet, busy about his affairs, approached deferentially but curiously, and, at a sign from his master, lifted and examined the billet, and shook his head.
“You don’t know?”
“No, indeed, my lord.”
“How do you read it, man? How do you read it?”
Phineas scratched his poll and grinned and was silent.
“You are just an intolerable ass,” cried his master. He danced in his excitement. His dignity was all gone; he was simply a man in a shirt. “Fetch master secretary!” he cried. “Fetch master comptroller! Rouse the household, and warn the porter at the gate! Send everyone in to me, here and at once.”
The valet hesitated.
“Do you hear?” shouted Sir Richard. “Why do you wait?”
“It doesn’t come down to your knees, my lord,” said Phineas.