At nine-thirty they were admitted into Lord Lothersdale's study. The great man was in a genial mood, the result, no doubt, of an instructive afternoon and a good dinner.
He walked round the corporal, and inspected him critically.
"By Jove! Bower," he said at last, "you've done the trick. Capital! And your idea of primrose facings was quite right, after all."
"I am glad that you approve of it, my lord," said the beaming tailor.
"I do. And the country will, too. There'll be some recruiting when this gets out." Then he knitted his brows. "I think the cuffs are a shade too deep, though. I'm sure they are. But half-an-inch—no, a quarter—will put it right."
"A quarter-of-an-inch off the cuff facin's. Make a note of that," said Mr. Bower to his assistant, who had his pocket-book ready.
"You'll have it done by breakfast time, please," said Lord Lothersdale, "so that I can see how it looks by daylight. A photographer will be here, as I want some coloured prints for the Appendix."
Then the little deputation withdrew. The whole interview had not occupied more than five minutes, and most of that time the tailor's assistant had been taking his bearings, and trying to locate the report. That was surely it—a business-like foolscap volume on the desk. The secretary was writing in it when they entered, and later on he had carefully put it in the top left-hand drawer. The assistant manœuvred round to the desk during the interview, and after taking particulars of the alterations required, he laid down his notebook, and deliberately left it there.
At two o'clock in the morning, when the whole household was presumably fast asleep, Mr. Bower's assistant suddenly remembered that he had left his notebook downstairs, and decided to recover it at once rather than wait till morning. He therefore made his way cautiously to Lord Lothersdale's study. He accomplished the return journey without any untoward event happening; but he brought back with him, in addition to the notebook, a manuscript volume, which he deposited in his handbag.