"And now, Senhor Eduardo, explain yourself," demanded the monk.
"I came on ahead—last night," said Senhor Eduardo.
"Ahead of whom?"
"Of the others."
By this time Antonio was getting irritated by young Crowberry's tiresome smartness; and he was on the point of asking him, rather sharply, not to be a young ass. But he restrained himself and waited. At last young Crowberry said:
"They are in Coimbra. Dirty hole. They're following next week. I came on ahead to chase out the rats and beetles."
"We saw a light last night in the guest-house window," said Antonio. "Do you mean to tell me you opened the place in the dark, and slept there by yourself?"
"Certainly. What of it?"
"Simply this. My dear Eduardo, you are not half such a muff as you try to look, and not one tenth such a ne'er-do-well. But about these 'others.' Who are they? Why are they coming here? How long will they stay?"
"Firstly," replied Edward Crowberry, "there's the guv'nor. Secondly and thirdly, there's Sir Percy and his daughter. Fourthly, there's Mrs. Baxter. Fifthly and sixthly and all-the-restly, there's the servants."