"Nothing," said Conniston, promptly. "He only came down here for a rest. Do you think he has robbed the bank?"
"There's worse things than robbing banks," remarked Mrs. Moon, shaking her frilled cap portentously, "and the worse things is what he's done. And why shouldn't he tell me his name if he was a babe for innocence?"
"Didn't he do so when he arrived?" asked Conniston, halting on the landing with an anxious look.
"No, my lord, bless your heart! he didn't," said the giantess; "and but that he had your letter, which was as plain as print——"
"And was print," interpolated Dick, remembering his caligraphy adapted to the brains of Mrs. Moon.
"I shouldn't have let him in. But your lordship said he was to have the best room, and the best room he has, to say nothing of your lordship's clothes, he having arrived in tatters like a tramp, which he isn't from the princely looks of him. No one knows as he is here, he having asked me to say nothing. But Victoria——"
"What about her?" asked Conniston, rather sharply, for Victoria was a small servant, preternaturally sharp and mighty curious.
"She's allays asking questions as to what he's doing here."
"Then, don't answer her questions."
"I don't," said Mrs. Moon, plaintively, "and but that she's so strong I'd smack her hard. But only Jerry could manage her, and, bless me! your dear lordship, he's earning his bread in London, though I haven't heard of him for months."