Mention has been made of Slummers. It would have been difficult to describe him. He was called in the village "the Shadow," because he was so thin and noiseless, so silent and death-like. In addition to his noiselessness, he had a trick of going about with closed eyes, or with his lids so lowered that it looked as if his eyes were closed. Bets had been made upon the supposed color of those visional organs, but had never been decided, for never by any chance did he look anyone in the face when speaking; and when by some accident those sphinx-like lids were raised they were dropped again so quickly that examination of what lay behind them was impossible. Secretiveness was part and parcel of this man. He never did anything openly. When he gave an order it was in a round-about way. The simplest action of his daily life was enveloped in mystery. Even his meals were taken in a room apart; only a few of the servants knew the room he occupied. Then he seemed ubiquitous. He was everywhere at once, and turned up when least expected. With noiseless step he came and went about the house; now in the servants' hall, now in the library closeted with his master, now in the stables looking under his lids at the horses, counting, so said the grooms, every oat that went into the mangers. Not a thing was done in the house but he was acquainted with it. And he knew everything! Not a secret was kept from him. Had anyone in the village an episode in his life, which he hoped and deemed hidden and forgotten, Slummers knew it, and managed by some dropped word or look to let the miserable man know that he knew it. Before he had been at Hurst a week he had half the servants and villagers in his power. Power! That was the secret mainspring of the man's existence. He loved power. Give even the fiend his due. This man had one good quality, he was devoted to his master. Saving this one great event of his life--the theft and loss of his will--Stephen trusted him in everything. And Slummers admired him. In his eyes Stephen was the cleverest man on earth, and being the cleverest man on earth Slummers was content to serve him. Yes, Slummers was devoted to his master, but he made up for it in his detestation of the rest of mankind in general, and of one man in particular--Jack Newcombe. Between Jack--honest, frank, and reckless Jack--and the serpent-like Slummers there had been a feud which had commenced from the moment of their first introduction. On that occasion Slummers had been sent with a message to Jack's room. Jack happened to be out, and Slummers whiled away the tediousness of waiting by opening a drawer in Leonard's table and reading some unimportant letters. Jack, coming in with his usual suddenness, caught him and kicked him. Jack had forgotten it long ago, but Slummers had not, and he waited for the time till he could return that kick in his own fashion. The days passed, and Mr. Hudsley's task appeared to be nearing a conclusion.