"You brute!" said Eleanor, hotly. "What are your terms?"
"Ah, that would be telling! You will have to wait to discover that. You see, Silas Weeks wasn't quite as stupid as the rest of the people at Hedgeville, and when he couldn't find out what old Slavin was doing there, he came to me—because he thought I probably could."
"Slavin!" said Eleanor, in an amazed tone. "Is that your father's name, Zara? Why didn't you tell us?"
"He told me not to," said Zara, nervously.
"Zara's father had one bad fault; he wasn't at all ready to trust people," Holmes went on, easily. "He didn't even trust me as he should have done, and he's been positively insulting to Weeks. It's made a lot of trouble for him."
He looked at his watch, then turned to the servant.
"Go upstairs and make the rooms comfortable for Miss Mercer at once," he said. "It's getting late." Then he turned to the men who had accompanied him to the Columbia. "It's all right, boys," he said. "You needn't wait."
"These people keep their ears entirely too wide open," he explained to Eleanor. "I have to be rather careful with them, though they probably wouldn't understand much if they did hear. Well, that is about all I've got to tell you, anyhow. You see, you needn't worry about your friend Zara. As to Bessie—well, that's different."
He looked at Bessie malevolently.
"I don't think I care to tell you anything more about her," he said. "Weeks will look after her all right—as well as she deserves to be looked after."