‘Do you mean to say that the gentleman hid it in this very house?’ gasped the landlord, with considerable astonishment depicted on his countenance.
‘That is what I think.’
‘Well, well!’ exclaimed the old man, ‘to think that I should ha’ slept an’ eaten an’ drunk within them blessed walls for fifteen year, with—who knows—half a million of property hidden about the place unbeknown to me! Suppose there had been a fire, sir.’
‘It is fortunate there has not been one,’ replied Reginald.
‘Am I to understand that you wish to search the house?’ inquired old Hobb, whose imagination was fired with a variety of wild speculations, among which the probable discovery of a strong case of bullion figured not the least conspicuously.
‘The whole house!—certainly not,’ answered Reginald with a faint smile. ‘I am afraid that would waste too much valuable time. What I want first is a bed for the night.’
‘There’s the room which Sir Carnaby himself had: your honour wouldn’t have no objection to that?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Ainslie. ‘The knowledge that the room has some unpleasant circumstances connected with it will not affect me in the least. I shall sleep as soundly in that apartment as in any other.’
‘Very good, sir.’ And mine host was about to leave the apartment, when his visitor arrested him. ‘One word more, Mr Dipping.’
‘Certainly, sir.’