While Ethan was yet gazing at him in astonishment, he nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
“What a queer looking old codger,” said the Irish trooper. “What talk had he?”
Ethan translated the words of the man and Longsword opened his eyes in wonder.
“Is it possible that Captain Jones told this old fellow about the document and its loss,” cried he. “Faith and it don’t seem likely, so it don’t.”
“Indeed it does not,” responded Ethan. “And yet what else are we to understand by his words? He knew that you and I were out in search of some one; and he said that that some one was at present with the captain.”
“It has a queer look to me,” said Longsword, scratching his head in a puzzled fashion. “And do ye know, Master Ethan, the house seems to have a strange look, too; faith it don’t seem the same at all, at all.”
“Nonsense,” laughed Ethan. “Don’t let your imagination run riot, old fellow. You and I are not well enough acquainted with the house to know how it looks.”
Just then there was the sound of a door opening and closing. Then they heard voices in the hall, as though some one had stepped out of the adjoining room.
“Yes,” said one of the voices, “I understood that you were being sought for anxiously all the afternoon.”
“By whom?” asked another voice.