Mr. Cardus laughed as he followed his visitor’s gaze. “A curious sort of clerk, eh?” he said. “Mad, dumb, and half-paralysed—not many lawyers could show such another.”
Mr. de Talor glanced at the object of their observation uneasily.
“If he’s so mad, how can he do clerk’s work?” he asked.
“O, he’s only mad in a way; he copies beautifully.”
“He has quite lost his memory, I suppose?” said De Talor, with another uneasy glance.
“Yes,” answered Mr. Cardus, with a smile, “he has. Perhaps it is as well. He remembers nothing now but his delusions.”
Mr. de Talor looked relieved. “He has been with you many years now, hasn’t he, Cardus?”
“Yes, a great many.”
“Why did you bring him ’ere at all?”
“Did I never tell you the story? Then if you care to step back into my office I will. It is not a long one. You remember when our friend”—he nodded towards the office—“kept the hounds, and they used to call him ‘hard-riding Atterleigh’?”