“Of course,” said he at last, “it’s only a hole in the attic that I’m talking about. It may not be on your list of studies at all. To the naked eye it looks more like a family vault in some cheap cemetery.”
Compton produced a pipe, filled it, and struck a match; then he made his confession.
“Well, I can give you a table and a couple of chairs. As a matter o’ fac’ I’ve got some spare, and I’ve been wondering for a long time which study they belongs to. Over and over again I’ve reckoned up all the studies, on the fingers of my ’ands, and then all the tables and chairs, and they never come right. There was always a set over.”
Rouse’s face cleared instantly. He held out his hand.
“I warmly congratulate you, Compton,” said he. “Let me pilot you to the place forthwith. You had better bring some sandwiches and a bottle of beer with you, as it’s rather a distance and you might be glad of some light refreshment half way.”
He paused as they were about to leave and cast one last look round the little room.
“Compton,” said he, “would it be too much to ask whether you could lend Master Hope your little stove for the afternoon? To-morrow everything will be in full swing and he will be serving a cut from the joint with two vegetables from his own fireplace practically without cessation all day. But we must give the organisation time to settle down. We should not like you to have to hump along a sack of coal to-day, for example. But we should very much like to have a cup of tea with Hope in his sanctum, and as a matter of fact a few friends are visiting him.”
Compton cast a glance over his shoulder.
“I’ll give him a bit of coal,” said he. “If it’s a little place in the attic he’s going into he’ll want a bit of a fire in there to dry the place up and vent’late it a bit.”
“It would, I am sure, be enough,” said Rouse, “if you could only give him a bit of red carpet to warm his cold feet on.”