"I wonder what his object could be in coming here, and then leaving us in this extraordinary manner. Perhaps you can throw some light on that very peculiar incident in the middle of the night, Mr. Jones?"
"I heard a noise, my lord, and followed Mr. Kassala to see what he was doing. I haven't the faintest idea why he went into your room, unless it really was, as he said, that he had mistaken it for Mr. Percy's."
"But what should he want with Mr. Percy?" asked Mrs. Dacre.
"Perhaps Mr. Percy will answer that?" said the chaplain, with much meaning in his voice.
Mr. Percy fixed the eyeglass and looked coolly at the chaplain. "How on earth should I know, Jones?" he said. With this oracular remark he returned to his egg.
The chaplain was bursting with indignation at Mr. Percy's concealment of his midnight interview with Mr. Kassala. He longed to expose him, but shrank from the necessity of a painful scene.
"Mildred," said Mrs. Dacre suddenly, "let us look through the drawing-room silver at once. I hope the equestrian statuette of your father is safe."
While the ladies were ticking off their household gods, Mr. Percy went to his room to pack, and Mr. Jones followed.
"May I have his lordship's crozier?" asked the chaplain.
"Certainly. Here you are. But you do look unhappy, Jones! Whatever is the matter?"