The woman gave him a swift look over the lamp; then turned quickly, and went from the room, closing the door behind her. Paul tossed his hat into a corner, and sat down, and idly turned the wick of the lamp up and down once or twice; once he laughed softly, as at some grim jest that had just occurred to him. But by the time Patience had come anxiously into the room, and was staring into his face, with her hands clasped at her lean breast, the man was himself again, and could afford to smile at her.
"Why—how frightened you look!" he said gently. "What's the matter?"
"Master Paul—Master Paul—something has gone wrong. You've bad news?"
"No—not bad news," he replied, without looking at her. "Nothing to worry about at any rate—especially to-night. Get me some supper, Patience—and something to drink."
She hurried away, and rapidly got a meal for him. When she came back with the tray he was seated near the table, engaged on that old occupation of turning the wick of the lamp up and down. He looked round at her, in the attitude of one listening.
"What was that on the stairs?" he whispered. "I thought I heard someone moving. Have they all gone to bed?"
"Yes, Master Paul—all gone to bed."
"Thank you, Patience; I could not have seen them to-night. And Mr. Ditchburn?"
"Oh I sent him packing the first of all," replied the woman, with a sharp laugh. She began to adjust the tray, and to set out the things as temptingly as possible; eager as she was to know what had happened, her woman's tact taught her that it was something about which he would not speak then. There was a strange awkward tenderness about her voice and her movements as she waited upon him; the faded old eyes had a light in them that had never shone for anyone but him. "Eat it, dearie; it'll do you good," she whispered.
Nor would she leave him until a little later, utterly worn out, he toiled upstairs to his room. And even then, in the security of her own room, she listened for a long time, with her ear against the door, while the man paced up and down—up and down—in his own room near at hand. But at last even that sound ceased, and Old Paul was apparently at rest.