Leaving Mr. Leigh murmuring comments, and fumbling amongst the flotsam and jetsam of the Middle Ages, the barrister walked leisurely along the book-lined passage, through the book-littered entrance hall and emerged into the desolation of the surrounding jungle. Rupert and Miss Mallien were conspicuous by their absence, and the gruff individual left in charge of Carrington was waiting restlessly. He waved his hand when the visitor appeared.
"Did you ever see such a pig sty?" he growled with the voice of an ourangoutang, which beast he greatly resembled, "and Leigh is exactly suited to it. As the man is so are his surroundings: his mind is as muddled as his garden. And this addle-pated parson is supposed to be the spiritual father of the parish. Pah! Come and look at the lordly pleasure grounds. Rupert asked me to look after you, so I must, I suppose. Did you ever see such a rotten place?" he asked contemptuously.
"Oh, yes! You are showing me nothing new," replied Carrington, who took a delight in exasperating the man's temper.
"I shan't show you anything more," growled Mallien sullenly, "and after all I'm dashed silly to bother myself in this way."
"Oh, I don't quite see----Oh!" His face twisted with pain as he spoke.
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Mallien crossly.
"Toothache! I have had a twinge or two lately and I expect that this damp place"--Carrington looked up at the dark overhanging boughs--"has brought back the pain. I shall have to see a doctor when I go to town."
"You can see a doctor here, if you like," said Mallien roughly, and pushed his way back to the avenue. "Dr. Tollart lives at the end of the village. Anyone will tell you where he is to be found."
"Thanks," said the barrister as they paused by the rickety gate. "You are kinder than you mean to be."
"I'm not. I want to get rid of you," fumed Mallien, turning on his heel. "You can go to the doctor or to the devil for all I care."