"He does not live here, then?"
"Not in this building—no. There is a detached cottage at the far end of the grounds which he occupies. If you'd like to see him," and the heavy jowls of the speaker trembled with eagerness, "Haines will show you there at once."
"If it is no trouble," said Ashton-Kirk, smoothly.
"Not in the least." The doctor rang for his man, and when he entered, said: "These gentlemen would like to speak to Professor Locke. Show them the way to his house. And, gentlemen," to the callers, with anxiety, "the professor can arrange everything with you. It is my habit to nod for a half hour after dinner. My system has grown to expect it, and if I am deprived of it, I suffer considerably in consequence."
"We will not trouble you again, doctor," Ashton-Kirk assured him. "Thank you, and good-night."
Once more outside, the man led them along a foot-path that seemed to cut the institution grounds in two. The rays of his lantern danced along the carefully kept lawn; the shadowy trees seemed to move backward and forward, as the thin beams wavered among them.
"The professor lives a good piece away," the man informed them. "Away over on the county road."
"Prefers to be alone, eh?"
"I suppose so, sir. And then he has his laboratory and work-shop there, well away from interruption. He don't like to be much disturbed while he is engaged in his studies."
"Few of us do," said Pendleton.