“Well, doctor,” responded the old gentleman, “I certainly think that the affair is worth spending fifty pounds upon. You see, you’ve bought Captain Seal out of it, and the matter is now practically your own affair. Besides, if you rented the Manor you would keep out your rivals. Yes. Most decidedly; go down and take the place for a year.”
“Not a very desirable place of residence,” I laughed.
“I know. But be careful these other people don’t again forestall you. Go down there to-morrow and make the bargain at once. The old place may contain the treasure, or it may not. In any case, no harm will be done by your being the tenant for a year.”
Thus it was that in the blaze of the noontide sun I next day passed up the little main street of Caldecott, traversed the somewhat odorous farm-yard, and entered the silent, moss-grown court of the Manor House.
A fair-haired slip of a girl came to the door in response to my ring, and after a little while Mrs. Kenway, who had gone to put herself tidy to receive visitors, entered the dining-room—that room which contained my pet abomination, furniture covered with brown American cloth.
The good woman seemed quite pleased to see me again. Her husband was out on his round, she said, but nevertheless she offered me the simple hospitality of a glass of milk.
“Well, Mrs. Kenway,” I commenced, after I had grown a little cool, “I’ve come on an errand which I dare say will give you some gratification. When I was here some time ago you told me you wished to sub-let your house. I have spoken to my friend about it, and he has sent me to take it on his behalf. I forget exactly the rent you named.”
“Well, sir,” responded the woman, “funnily enough I’m in treaty with a gentleman who wants to take the place. I promised to make no arrangement until I heard from him.”
“Who is he?” I asked, quickly. “What is his name?”
“I forget, sir, but I have it written on an envelope upstairs. I’ll go and get it.” And she left the room.