"Just so," said Mr. Jacobs. "Thank you, my lord. I don't use alcohol; but I should like to have a cup of tea, if I may: great tea-drinker."
He took his cup of tea with the Inspector in the morning-room, and while he drank it, he talked to the Inspector—of the country and the crops.
"I love the country," he said. "If I had my way, I would never put foot in London again. When I retire, Inspector, I'm going to buy a little farm—if it will run to it; and London won't see me again in a hurry. Beautiful place, this; and they breed a remarkably good class of cattle. I'm rather an authority on shorthorns; shall go in for some myself, if I can afford it."
To all this the Inspector listened with amazement.
"Anything you'd like me to do, Mr. Jacobs?" he asked, in a tone that verged on exasperation. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? That window in the lower hall, for instance?"
"Thanks; I saw it as we passed through," replied Mr. Jacobs, simply. "No; I don't think there's anything I want to see. Yes; this is a beautiful house; quite a show-place. I should like to see something of it presently; but one doesn't like to intrude at such a time as this." The Inspector stared at him. "But perhaps I might go through what I suppose you'd call the state rooms—and yes, upstairs."
"I thought you would have liked to examine the whole house without loss of time," remarked the Inspector, with an aggrieved air.
"Oh, presently will do," said Mr. Jacobs; "don't want to make myself a nuisance. We might walk round the grounds."
They went out, the Inspector still confused and aggrieved by what he considered the detective's lack of business method, and Mr. Jacobs gazed round him with approval and admiration.
"Beautiful! Beautiful!" he murmured. "Where's this lake Lord Heyton spoke of? I should like to see that. In my opinion, every place of this sort ought to have a bit of water: lends such a charm to the scenery, don't you think, Inspector?"