"Beer!" replied Larcher resignedly, falling in with the tricksey humor of his friend. Tait was a man with whom it was impossible to quarrel.
"Dormer, fill Mr. Larcher's glass; put the claret jug beside me, and leave the room. We will wait on ourselves."
As stolid as a wooden image Dormer obeyed these instructions, and wheeled out of the room. Tait ate a few mouthfuls of beef, drank a glass of claret, and prepared to talk. His first remark was a bombshell.
"I have seen Paynton," said he slowly.
"The deuce you have!" cried Claude, in surprise; "and how did you manage to take his castle by storm?"
"Easily enough, by the help of a lie and a little strategy. I went out to see if you were at your post, and caught sight of Kerry crossing the fields. As I knew Jenny would be at the Lintons',—for she goes there to see the old lady every morning,—I guessed that Rose Cottage would be undefended; so back I ran to the house, picked up a book which I had promised to lend the young lady, and went to pay my visit."
"How did you get inside the gate? It is generally locked."
"It wasn't on this occasion," replied Tait complacently. "I opened it and walked in, to find old Paynton strolling in the garden. Catching sight of me, he turned back to re-enter the house, but, luckily, I was between him and the door, so we met face to face."
"What kind of a man is he to look at?"
"Oh, a fine-looking old chap, with white hair and beard, a skullcap, and a dressing gown. Quite the get up of a necromancer."