As Claude knew no one was about in that walled place but Kerry and the deaf old housekeeper, he wondered what further privacy was necessary; but considering that Paynton had doubtless good reason for his action, he bowed silently and followed him within, as requested.
In a few minutes they were in the bookroom. Paynton seated himself in such a position as to place his back to the strong light shining through the window, and asked Claude to be seated in a chair which lacked this advantage. In this way Paynton could observe every change in the face of his visitor, while his own, being in the shadow, was more difficult to read. Larcher saw the maneuver, but did not think it necessary to make any objection. In his place Tait would have acted differently.
"I am greatly obliged that you have consented to see me," said Claude, breaking the silence, "for I am informed that you live a very secluded life."
"That is true. I accord you this interview at the request of my friend, Mr. Hilliston, but at the same time I may tell you that I have my own reasons for granting it."
"I think I can guess your reasons, Mr. Paynton."
"No doubt," replied Paynton, touching a book on the table; "they are not unconnected with this novel. You know, of course, that my daughter—that Jenny supplied young Linton with the material for his plot."
"I do. She found the report of my father's murder in some old newspapers in this house."
"Did you not think it strange that I should be in possession of such a report?"
"Naturally I did," answered Claude, replying to this direct question with marked embarrassment, "and it is on that account that I ask you to help me."
"Do you think I can do so?"