"Oh, here's a go!" he exclaimed. "Dr. Warrender's run away, an' the Quiet Gentleman's followed!"
"Wot d'ye mean, Billy?"
"Wot I say. The doctor ain't bin 'ome all night, nor all mornin', an' Mrs. Warrender's in hysterics over him. Their 'ousemaid I met shoppin' tole me."
The servants looked at one another. Here was more trouble, more excitement.
"And the Quiet Gentleman?" asked the cook with ghoulish interest.
"He's gone, too. Went out larst night, an' never come back. Mrs. Marry thinks he's bin murdered."
There was a babel of voices and cries, but after a moment quiet was restored. Then Cicero placed his hand on the boy's head.
"My boy," he said pompously, "who is the Quiet Gentleman? Let us be clear upon the point of the Quiet Gentleman."
"Don't you know, sir?" put in the eager cook. "He's a mystery, 'aving bin staying at Mrs. Marry's cottage, she a lone widder taking in boarders."
"I'll give a week's notice!" sobbed the scullery-maid. "These crimes is too much for me."