“The inspector is here to see you, sir,” he announced. “He did mention something about the lights. I'm sure we've all been most careful. Even her ladyship has only used a candle in her bedroom.”
“Show the inspector in,” Sir Henry directed, “and I'll hear what he has to say. And give Dumble some whisky as he goes out, and a cigar.”
“Wishing you good night, sir,” the latter said, as he followed Mills. “I'll be punctual in the morning. Looks to me as though we might have good sport.”
“We'll hope for it, anyway, Jimmy,” his employer replied cheerfully. “Come in, Inspector.”
The inspector, a tall, broad-shouldered man, saluted and stood at attention. Sir Henry nodded affably and glanced towards the door. He remained silent until Mills and Dumble had disappeared.
“Glad I happened to catch you, Inspector,” he observed, sitting on the edge of the table and helping himself to another cigarette. “Any fresh arrivals?”
“None, sir,” the man reported, “of any consequence that I can see. There are two more young officers for the Depot, and the young lady for the Grange, and Mr. and Mrs. Silvester returned home last night. There was a commercial traveller came in the first train this morning, but he went on during the afternoon.”
“Hm! What about a Mr. Lessingham—a Mr. Hamar Lessingham?”
“I haven't heard of him, sir.”
“Have you had the registration papers down from the hotel yet?”