"And besides," put in Walcot, "we are safe, Master Rumbold said, from being overlooked on this side."
"The place seems Scylla or Charybdis," said Howard laughing, "and a veritable vermin trap to boot—if one may judge by the snuffling in there," and he pointed to the wainscot, "eh, Master Hannibal?"
"The four-legged pests do somewhat overabound here, my lord," answered Rumbold; "but my own friends are safe enough, I pledge you my word. I did but entreat Master West to be a bit careful. His voice is scarce so still and small as caution behoves."
"Liken it rather unto that of a trumpet," piped the shrill tones of Ferguson, "which shall blare to the uttermost walls—"
Walls have ears.
"All in its good time, Master Ferguson," interrupted Walcot; "meanwhile remember walls have ears."
"And so have listeners," growled West, still sorely put about with himself for his own forgetfulness, "long as asses' ones."
"Nay," said Rumbold, "they'd have to be longer and sharper too, to pierce these walls. More than three feet and a half thick I know them to be."
"And all of pure stone?" inquired a voice.
"No, of oak, Master Sheriff, which is at least as trustworthy."