“I haven’t the foggiest idea.” Vance yawned and rose. “Come, Markham, let’s while away a few brief moments with this Mr. Drukker whom Beedle abhors.”
“Drukker!” exclaimed Arnesson, with considerable surprise. “Where does he fit in?”
“Mr. Drukker,” explained Markham, “called here this morning to see you; and it’s barely possible he met Robin and Sperling before he returned home.” He hesitated. “Would you care to accompany us?”
“No, thanks.” Arnesson knocked out his pipe and got up. “I’ve a pile of class papers to look over.—It might be as well, however, to take Belle along. Lady Mae’s a bit peculiar. . . .”
“Lady Mae?”
“My mistake. Forgot you didn’t know her. We all call her Lady Mae. Courtesy title. Pleases the poor old soul. I’m referring to Drukker’s mother. Odd character.” He tapped his forehead significantly. “Bit touched. Oh, perfectly harmless. Bright as a whistle, but monominded, as it were. Thinks the sun rises and sets in Drukker. Mothers him as if he were an infant. Sad situation. . . . Yes, you’d better take Belle along. Lady Mae likes Belle.”
“A good suggestion, Mr. Arnesson,” said Vance. “Will you ask Miss Dillard if she’ll be good enough to accompany us?”
“Oh, certainly.” Arnesson gave us an inclusive smile of farewell—a smile which seemed at once patronizing and satirical—and went up-stairs. A few moments later Miss Dillard joined us.
“Sigurd tells me you want to see Adolph. He, of course, won’t mind; but poor Lady Mae gets so upset over even the littlest things. . . .”
“We sha’n’t upset her, I hope.” Vance spoke reassuringly. “But Mr. Drukker was here this morning, d’ ye see; and the cook says she thought she heard him speaking to Mr. Robin and Mr. Sperling in the archery-room. He may be able to help us.”