Patsy’s room, as we have said, was on the ground-floor. The other servants’ rooms were at the top of the house, but the page-boy at Glen Druid always inhabited a room on the ground-floor, near the plate pantry.
It was five minutes past ten; most of the servants had gone up to bed, and nobody saw them as they went down the passage to the room, where, lit by a candle burning on the chest of drawers, a coil of rope, a huge pulley, some carpenter’s tools, and half a dozen long screws lay on the bed. A step-ladder stood in the middle of the room under the beam in the ceiling.
“You wait here,” said Patsy, “till I tell Mr Fanshawe. Don’t be movin’ from the room; and if any one comes, say you’ve come to help fix the window sash.”
“Off with you!” replied Larry.
Lady Seagrave, Uncle Molyneux, Violet Lestrange and General Grampound were playing bridge in the drawing-room when Patsy appeared with the announcement, that Larry Lyburn wanted to see Mr Fanshawe on account of one of the horses.
Dicky, who had excused himself from bridge, alleging a headache, left the room with a glance at Violet—an ocular kiss unnoticed by the others in the ferment of mind caused by the General, who was going the grand slam.
“Larry’s waitin’, sir,” said Patsy.
“Come on,” replied Mr Fanshawe.
They reached the room unnoticed, and Larry greeted Mr Fanshawe with a touch of an imaginary hat.
“That’s right,” said Dicky, looking at the things on the bed—“everything is here. Does Larry know what we’re about?”