Lord Castlereagh obediently threw up his great head and barked cheerfully in welcome. This done, he sat down on his haunches and extended his paw, which the baronet shook heartily.
"Who named the dog?" demanded Sir Percival, helping himself to a seat on the stool nearest him.
"I hasked Mr. Moore to suggest a suitable cognomy, hand that's wot 'ee chose. 'Ee hallows has 'ow hit was wonderously happropriate, sir."
"I quite agree with your master," replied the baronet. "You said you were going out. Pray do not let me detain you."
"Hall right, sir," said Buster, taking his cap from its nail behind the door. "Mr. Moore will return from 'is drive in 'Yde Park in 'arf an hour. Hi won't be very long. Come hon, Pupsy."
Opening the door he hurried along the hall and down the stairs with Lord Castlereagh yelping delightedly in headlong pursuit as Sir Percival rose from his seat and strolled carelessly around the attic, humming softly to himself as he prosecuted his investigation. Meanwhile Farrell, seated in Moore's arm-chair, preserved a gloomy silence.
"So," said the baronet, disdainfully, "this is the abode of genius? Upon my word, as bare and unattractive a kennel as I have ever explored."
"You dragged me here against my will, Sir Percival," responded Farrell, uneasily. "When you have satisfied your curiosity let us go. I have no wish to encounter Moore."
"Tut," said Sir Percival, reprovingly, "there is no necessity for our haste, we saw the worthy gentleman leave here, Terence. Walking at the rate at which he started he must be half way to Pall Mall by this time."
"If he does not turn back," objected Farrell. "You can't be sure how long he intended to continue in that direction, Sir Percival."