"Very well," I replied, "I will ensure our being undisturbed."
I had noticed an old iron bolt in the door, also a stout staple driven into the doorpost. I therefore quietly bolted the door.
"There," I said, "if the witches come it will take them time to get in."
He seemed more than ever discomfited at my coolness. He had been so long undisturbed that he seemed to wonder at any one daring to come to him in such a way.
"Well, what do you want to know?" he said helplessly. Then he added, "But let me tell you this: I know nothing."
"Who is this woman called Constance?" I asked.
At this his face became relieved. "Ha! ha!" he cried. "A lover, eh? He traced the fair Constance hither, and now his love makes him so brave that he dares to meet the ghost of Pycroft. But Constance is not for you, lad. She hath her duties as a wife—eh, a wife!"
"Wife or maid, who is she?"
"How do I know? I who—who——" here he relapsed into silence.
"But you will know before I leave this room," I made answer. "Also, you will tell me other things."