Now, for an hour had the two been regularly dipping and spilling, in the remote hope of finding a gold chain and _bréviaire_ curled snugly in the pail after some particular haul. But it seemed a forlorn and fruitless search. If the gewgaw had in truth slipped in, it was for a certainty imbedded in the silt and slime at the bottom. Fatigue was telling a little upon the loose physique of the servant. His cheeks were hot and his breath laboured. But the master worked on, vigorous and pre-occupied, and gave little thought to the other’s condition. Indeed, his want of consideration could plead the excuse that he had much present matter to meditate and digest. He had inherited, it seemed, the lonely lordship of many mysteries; and to the devil’s captured attorneys, he could have thought, had been committed the task of drawing up his new lease of life, so teeming was it with uninterpretable perplexities, after the most admired human models. Once or twice he spoke to his servant, in a stern, even voice that was really little of an invitation to confidence. “Whimple,” he had said, “had you any previous knowledge of the fellow who called yesterday?” “I have seen him about, sir.” “Had he ever spoken to you before?” “He had--he may have once or twice.” It was always an aggravation that this man could never, it appeared, give a direct answer. “What do you mean by ‘may have’? Has he or has he not?” “He has, sir.” “On what matters?” “I don’t know, sir--of no importance--I really couldn’t tell.” Mr. Tuke glanced up angrily. “You part with every word as if it were a tooth. Now, mind,” he said sharply--“you’ll give him a wide berth for the future. I’ll not have anything concerning me discussed between you--concerning me, or my house, or whatsoever connected with the estate.” Once again, as the man took the bucket from him, he had looked into his face and said: “So your removal of the abominations belonging to your sister was an evasion, after all?” Whimple gave a gasp and dropped his eyes. “Sir,” he muttered piteously--“I thought you would never know, or, knowing, never mind. She--she--it would break her heart to part with them altogether. They are abominations to you and me----” “You can leave yourself out of the question, fellow. I don’t concern myself with the quality of your emotions.” The other twined his nervous fingers together over the bucket handle. Suddenly he spoke up, with a flushed face. “If they are to go, sir, I would rather take the girl, with all her cranks and fancies, and do my best to seek a living elsewhere.” The baronet looked hard at the poor baited creature.