“Only did your duty, sir,” replied the man. “It was quite right, and I’m glad, for all concerned, that it was a mistake.”
“You understand, then; we don’t want it to be talked about in the inn, or—or—anywhere, in fact.”
“Don’t you be afraid about that, sir,” said the man quietly. “I don’t wonder at you. It did look suspicious, but that’s all right, sir. Good-night, gentlemen both.”
“But your man?”
“Close as a nut, sir; aren’t you, Jem?”
“Rather,” said that personage, with a growl. “Night, sir.”
He slipped out, and the sergeant followed. As Guest was closing the door upon him, he whispered:
“Quite upset your friend, sir. Why, he turned ghastly; couldn’t have looked worse if we’d found the—”
“Exactly. Bad health,” said Guest hurriedly. “Good-night.”
And he closed both doors; and then, with a peculiar sensation of shrinking, turned to face Stratton where he stood by the fireplace.