This raising and lowering in ascent and upon level was all carried out in the most exact and regular way—in fact, so practised had the old couple grown in the course of years, that they could have carried a brimming glass of water up the gloomy stairs without spilling a drop. Hence, then, they reached the drawing-room with the tray preserving its equilibrium from bottom to top.
As soon as they were inside Salome placed her end upon the little bracket while Vidler retained his; then she went out of the room, took up a big, soft drumstick, and gave three gentle taps on a gong that hung in its frame—three taps at long intervals, which sounded like the boomings of a bell at the funeral of a fish and a fowl—and then returned to the drawing-room and stood on the right-hand side of the panel close to the wall with one hand raised.
As she took her place the panel was softly slid back towards her. Then she took off the first cover, Vidler acting in conjunction, made the long tray glide slowly forwards into the opening, its end evidently resting on something within. Then two hands appeared, a knife and fork were used, with a glass at intervals, and the fish was discussed.
As soon as the knife and fork were laid down Salome whipped off two more covers, and the tray glided in a couple of feet further, both the lady and her lord keeping their eyes fixed upon the floor.
The calmness and ease with which all this was carried on indicated long practice, and for precision no amount of drilling could have secured greater regularity. As the knife and fork fell upon the plate again there was a pause, for a pint decanter and glass were pushed opposite the thin white hands that now approached, and, removing the stopper, filled the glass. Then a cover was raised, and the tray glided onward once more, with some steaming asparagus on toast; and after a short pause the cold, colourless voice was heard to repeat a short grace, the tray was slowly withdrawn, the panel glided to, and Vidler and his little wife bore the remains of the luncheon to the lower regions.
Hardly had the tray been set down before there was a double knock, and on going upstairs Vidler found John Huish at the front door.
“Would Captain Millet give me an interview, Vidler?” he asked.
The little man looked at him sidewise, then tried the other eye, and ended by standing out of the way and letting the visitor enter, shutting out the light again as carefully as before.
“I’ll try, sir,” he said; “I don’t think he will. I was just going to take up that,” he continued, pointing to a basket of coloured scraps of print. “He’s about to begin a new counterpane to-day.”
“A new what?” said Huish.