"Well?" said Yorke.
"I'm the man in possession, my lord," said the man respectfully enough.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CLEANED OUT.
A man in possession! Yorke looked at him half vacantly.
"Do you mean that you are going to stop here?" he said—"that you have got to stop here?"
"Yes, my lord, I'm sorry to say," said the man. "Somebody's got to be here to see that none of the things is removed."
Fleming, standing behind his master, groaned. Yorke turned to him quite coolly.
"Give the man something to eat and drink and make him comfortable. He can't help it, poor devil! Bring me some cigars and my letters into the dressing-room."