"I've put myself in a hole," he said angrily. "Of course I've got to advise him immediately that Mrs. Bashford is here. I promised to let him know as soon as I heard from her."
"Just wait a few days; I undertake to keep them under surveillance; you can put the whole responsibility on me. If they attempt to leave, I'll warn you and Raynor instantly, but they have settled themselves as though they expected to spend the rest of their lives here. Remembering your visit the other night, you ought to be satisfied with the policing of the place!"
I told him of Mrs. Bashford's adventures in reaching the house without convincing him that there was anything funny in her experiences, and he left on my promise to report to him daily at a given hour and instantly if anything unusual occurred. I waited for the guards to lock the gates and bade them keep watch every night until further orders, and was on my way back through the grounds when Antoine arrested me.
"Pardon me, but I'd like to ask what you think of it, sir?" he asked hoarsely, falling into step.
"If you mean what do I think of Mrs. Bashford," I replied sharply, "I think she's quite charming and delightful and all any one could ask in every way."
"It's her manner of speaking of spookish things, Mr. Singleton. It doesn't seem fitting in a widow and her so lately bereaved. And the older lady's quite as bad, sir. The maids tell me they keep talking all day about fairies and pretending they're queens and such like, and talking poetry to each other."
"Quoting poetry is a harmless amusement, Antoine, and believing in fairies and goblins is no crime. Such pastimes argue for sweetness and innocence of character."
"But the late master never indulged in such things, sir."
"He would have lived longer if he had! It was probably the poetry and fairies that attracted him to Mrs. Bashford."
"Yes, sir," he acquiesced with a gulp. "I suppose you're right, sir."