“You'll find it rather hard to get any thing out of him,” said Leon, with a short laugh. “He's beyond even your reach, and your courts of law too.”
“What do you mean?” cried Reginald.
“Well, you may see for yourself,” said Leon. “You won't be satisfied, I suppose, unless you do. Come along. You needn't be alarmed. I won't run. I'll stick to my part of our agreement, if you stick to yours.”
With these words Leon led the way out of the library, and Reginald followed. They went up a flight of stairs and along a hall to the extreme end. Here Leon stopped at a door, and proceeded to take a key from his pocket. This action surprised Reginald. He remembered the room well. In his day it had not been used at all, except on rare occasions, and had been thus neglected on account of its gloom and dampness.
“What's the meaning of this?” he asked, gloomily, looking suspiciously at the key.
“Oh, you'll see soon enough,” said Leon.
With these words he inserted the key in the lock as noiselessly as possible, and then gently turned the bolt. Having done this, he opened the door a little, and looked in with a cautions movement. These proceedings puzzled Reginald still more, and he tried in vain to conjecture what their object might be.
One cautious look satisfied Leon. He opened the door wider, and said, in a low voice, to his brother,
“Come along; he's quiet just now.”
With these words he entered, and held the door for Reginald to pass through. Without a moment's hesitation Reginald went into the room. He took but one step, and then stopped, rooted to the floor by the sight that met his eyes.