“Ay, that’ll be it,” nodded the henchman. “I knew it was something outlandish, my lord.”
“Well, by Jupiter!” ejaculated Nicky. “But—oh, wait till you hear the rest, Ned!”
Carlyon nodded dismissal to Barrow who went away again. Miss Beccles, drawing up her chair to the table, said, “Dear me, how commonplace it seems, to be sure, to be eating and drinking—such an excellent broth, too!—with so much excitement on hand!”
The placidity in her voice caused her late pupil to look at her reproachfully. “I do not desire any more such excitement, Becky!”
“No, my love, but I expect his lordship will know what is to be done. I am sure you may be quite easy in your mind.”
Elinor perceived that her old governess had fallen all too easily under the calming spell his lordship seemed to hold over his admirers, and gave a defiant sniff.
“But, Ned, listen to what followed!” interrupted Nicky. “When I rode over yesterday, as you bade me, Cousin Elinor told me the whole, and of course I remembered at once how it is said that Charles II hid in this house, and I thought very likely there might be a secret way into it—”
“Did you find it?”
The widow’s color rose. She fixed a pair of accusing eyes on Carlyon’s face and demanded, “My lord, answer me this, if you please! Did you know of that secret stair when you brought me here?”
“Yes, certainly I knew of it, but I thought it had been closed these many years,” he replied.