“Oh, you ain’t, eh?” said Nye. “And if Mr Lavenham mislaid his glass what should stop him coming to ask for it open? Don’t tell me you didn’t think there was any harm in it!”
“It was Mr Lavenham’s eyeglass. Mr Gregg said if I didn’t ask no questions there’d be no trouble for anyone.”
“There will be a great deal of trouble for you at least if you do not do precisely what I tell you now,” said Sir Tristram sternly. “If you had your deserts you would be handed over to the Constable. But if you keep your mouth shut I will engage for it that Nye will overlook this fault. Understand me, I want no word of what has occurred tonight to come to Gregg’s ears, or to Mr Lavenham’s. If you are questioned you will tell them that you have had no opportunity to search Sir Hugh’s room. Is that clear?”
The stableboy, thankful to have escaped the retribution he had thought inevitable, assured him that it was quite clear. He stammered out his gratitude, promised eternal good behaviour, and fled.
Nye drew a long breath. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I’d a deal rather be rid of the young good-for-nothing. My own lads bribed! What next will we have, I’d like to know?”
Sir Tristram was looking at the quizzing-glass in his hand. He said slowly: “So they didn’t find it! I wonder ...” He broke off, and strode suddenly towards the parlour. He was met by demands to know what has happened, and replied briefly: “One of Nye’s stablehands had been bribed to find the Beau’s quizzing-glass. He found this instead.”
“But that’s mine!” said Sir Hugh, regarding it fixedly.
“I know it.”
“Do you mean to tell me I’ve had my room ransacked again?” demanded Sir Hugh.
“No, I think you’ve merely had your pockets turned out. That’s not important.”