There was a clock over our heads, and Madrasia looked at it. We were half-way through the afternoon.
“I suppose we shall land somewhere about midnight,” she said. “But it’s just what I expected.”
She was wrong. We travelled a long way, to be sure, after leaving Peterborough, and I knew, by passing such places as Rugby and Warwick, that we were making into the heart of mid-England. But at eight o’clock, and at a small station, Parslewe had us out of our carriage and into a cab; within a few minutes we were in the quaint old streets of what looked like a mediæval town. And even then we did not know its name; all we knew was that he had ordered our driver to carry us to the Crown. Presently we were there, and saw an old-world hostelry, out of which came a very modern hall-porter, who, at sight of Parslewe, smiled widely and touched his forehead.
“Glad to see you again, sir!” said this functionary. “Rooms, sir?”
Parslewe looked at the man with a quizzical, inquiring glance.
“So you remember me, do you?” he asked. “Eh?”
“Never forget a face, sir,” replied the hall-porter. “This way, sir!”
XI
Back to Elizabeth
WE found ourselves in a wonderful old house, a place of nooks and corners, old oak, old everything; it would not have surprised me if, as I made my way along its queer passages and stairways, I had met men in ruffs and women in farthingales. But it was modern enough in its present administration, and they served us with a capital dinner, late as it was in the evening. That and the charm of our surroundings put Madrasia and myself into a better humour than we had been in during the last tiresome stages of our long journey. I think that by that time we were both inclined to enter into the spirit of the thing; it was, after all, an adventure that had possibilities. And in the middle of dinner Madrasia, with a whimsical laugh and a roguish sparkle in her eyes, bent towards Parslewe, who, as usual, was unconcerned, phlegmatic, and apparently quite at home.
“If it’s not stripping away too many of the wrappings of your precious mystery, Jimmie,” she said, “may one ask a question?”