"That leads to a space beneath the roof," said Walker. "By the way, there ought to be a ladder. It's gone."
Being, as has been seen, of active habit, he brought a chair from the bedroom, stood on it, pushed up the flap, and peered into the semi-obscurity of a triangular, rafter-lined attic, lighted only by a tiny square of glass cemented into one of the flat stone slabs of the roof.
"Oh, here it is," he announced. "Shall I pull it out?"
"No, thanks," said Armathwaite. "I don't suppose I shall mount so high again during my tenancy."
The younger man closed the trap, and, as it had been unfastened previously, shot a bolt into its socket.
"Well, that ends it," he said, brushing some grime off his hands. "If you care to stroll through the garden you'll find plenty of fruit coming on. This should be a good year for apples and plums, I'm told. It's too late to raise any potatoes or vegetables, but the village will supply plenty of table stuff, and cheap, too."
"Let me see," mused Armathwaite aloud. "Fifteen pounds rent, and, say, two guineas for your fee, and another guinea for the conveyance—eighteen pounds three shillings in all. Let us adjourn to the library, and I'll pay you, sign the agreement, and initial the inventory. Then I need not detain you any longer, Mr. Walker."
The agent looked blank, as well he might. He was flustered, too, by the terms offered for his valuable services.
"You don't mean that you're going to stay here straightaway, sir?" he cried.
"Yes. I came prepared for immediate occupation. That is why I brought my bag, and some groceries."