“Are you satisfied?” inquired Mr. Caryll pleasantly, his good temper inexhaustible. The spy looked at him with a moody eye, plucking thoughtfully at his lip with thumb and forefinger. Then he brightened suddenly. “There's your man,” said he, flashing a quick eye upon Leduc, who looked up with a quiet smile. “True,” said Mr. Caryll, “and there's my portmantle above-stairs, and my saddle on my horse in the stables. It is even possible, for aught you know, that there may be a hollow tooth or two in my head. Pray let your search be thorough.” Mr. Green considered him again. “If you had it, it would be upon your person.” “Yet consider,” Mr. Caryll begged him, holding out his foot that Leduc might put on his shoe again, “I might have supposed that you would suppose that, and disposed accordingly. You had better investigate to the bitter end.” Mr. Green's small eyes continued to scrutinize Leduc at intervals. The valet was a silent, serious-faced fellow. “I'll search your servant, leastways,” the spy announced. “By all means. Leduc, I beg that you will place yourself at this interesting gentleman's disposal.” What time Mr. Caryll, unaided now, completed the resumption of his garments, Leduc, silent and expressionless, submitted to being searched. “You will observe, Leduc,” said Mr. Caryll, “that we have not come to this country in vain. We are undergoing experiences that would be interesting if they were not quite so dull, amusing if they entailed less discomfort to ourselves. Assuredly, it was worth while to cross to England to study manners. And there are sights for you that you will never see in France. You would not, for instance, had you not come hither, have had an opportunity of observing a member of the noblesse seconding and assisting a tipstaff in the discharge of his duty. And doing it just as a hog wallows in foulness--for the love of it. “The gentlemen in your country, Leduc, are too fastidious to enjoy life as it should be enjoyed; they are too prone to adhere to the amusements of their class. You have here an opportunity of perceiving how deeply they are mistaken, what relish may lie in setting one's rank on one side, in forgetting at times that by an accident--a sheer, incredible accident, I assure you, Leduc--one may have been born to a gentleman's estate.” Rotherby had drawn himself up, his dark face crimsoning. “D'ye talk at me, sir?” he demanded. “D'ye dare discuss me with your lackey?” “But why not, since you search me with my tipstaff! If you can perceive a difference, you are too subtle for me, sir.” Rotherby advanced a step; then checked. He inherited mental sluggishness from his father. “You are insolent!” he charged Caryll. “You insult me.” “Indeed! Ha! I am working miracles.” Rotherby governed his anger by an effort. “There was enough between us without this,” said he. “There could not be too much between us--too much space, I mean.”