“No, it doesn’t matter. Have you had any rest? You must be pretty tired yourself.” “I am all right, thank you,” Fairlie replied with a certain dignity. “It doesn’t signify with me, and I have the household to look after.” “By the way,” remarked Humblethorne idly, “you’ve told me that all the windows were fastened; were all the shutters barred as well? I mean, you are sure?” “Quite sure,” replied Fairlie with a slight lift of his eyebrows. “It was my duty to see to that. Whoever came in knew better than to try any of those windows: that’s why he broke in through the pantry—at least,” he added in a self-depreciatory tone, “I don’t know how people of that sort reckon things out, but that seems sense to me.” “Yes, perhaps,” murmured Humblethorne absently. “What about being seen from the bedrooms upstairs, though? How do they go?” “There isn’t anybody sleeps on that side of the house now,” replied Fairlie, “except Mr. Castle and he’s right at the corner over the study, with the kitchens, etc., between him and the pantry window. It’s as safe a place to get in by as there could be.” “I see. Well, thanks; sorry to trouble you.” “It’s no trouble,” returned Fairlie simply, “I am glad to help, though it’s little I can do. Besides, it will be her ladyship’s wish that I should help in every way I can. I shall be bringing tea up in a few minutes now. I expect you would like a cup too. Will you have it here?” “Oh, that’s very kind: yes, here will do nicely,” said Humblethorne, anxious now he had learnt all he wished to know to get rid of Fairlie and go upstairs without attracting attention. Fairlie departed and Humblethorne, as soon as he was alone, went quickly upstairs and made his way to the room indicated as belonging to Castle. He listened outside a moment, heard nothing, and then quietly opened the door and stepped in.