At this moment eight o'clock struck from the landing, and Norah knocked at the door with hot water.
For a moment she thought of asking the servant the meaning of it all. Then she decided not.
Half an hour later she entered the dining-room, where breakfast was laid. Mr. French and Mr. Dashwood were already there, both spick and span and looking like people who had enjoyed an undisturbed night's rest. But there was a jubilant look in Mr. Dashwood's face and a twinkle in Mr. French's eye such as seldom appears on the face or in the eye of man before breakfast.
During the meal the conversation turned upon indifferent matters. Mr. Dashwood had several attacks of choking, but Mr. French seemed quite unmoved.
When the meal was over, and cigarettes were lit, Mr. French, who had been scanning through his letters, stretched out his hand to the bell-pull which was close to him.
"Norah," said Mr. French when that damsel appeared, "go down to the stable and send up Moriarty."
He lit a cigarette, and Miss Grimshaw, who had been preparing to leave the room, waited.
A few minutes passed; then came a knock at the door, and Moriarty, cap in hand, stood before his master.
"Moriarty," said Mr. French, "there's a pig got into the kitchen garden."
"A pig, sorr!"