"Yes, yes," I interrupted, "we'll talk about that presently," for I could see that, once allowed to start on the subject of his relatives and his native county, he would talk on for an hour. "What I have come here this afternoon to talk to you about is Sir Charles Thorold. When was he last here?" "It will be near two years come Michaelmas," he answered, without an instant's hesitation. "And since then I haven't set eyes on him--I haven't." "And has this house been shut up all the time?" "Ay, all that time. I mind the time my father used to tell me--" I damned his father under my breath, and quickly stopped him by asking who paid him his wages. "My wages? Oh, Sir Charles' lawyers, Messrs. Spink and Peters, of Lincoln's Inn, pays me my wages. But they are not going to pay me any more. No. They are not going to pay me any more now." "Not going to pay you any more? What do you mean?" "Give me notice to quit, they did, a week ago come Saturday." "But why?" "Orders from Sir Charles, they said. Would you like to see their letter, sir?" "I should, if you have it by you." It was brief, curt, and brutally frank-- "From Messrs. Spink and Peters, Solicitors, 582, Lincoln's Inn, W.C. "To William Taylor, Caretaker,-- "102, Belgrave Street, S.W. "Messrs. Spink and Peters are instructed by Sir Charles Thorold to inform William Taylor that owing to his advanced age his services will not be needed by Sir Charles Thorold after March 25. William Taylor is requested to acknowledge the receipt of this letter." "They don't consider your feelings much," I said, as I refolded the letter and handed it back to him. He seemed puzzled. "Feelings, sir? What are those?" he asked. "I don't somehow seem to know." "No matter. Under the circumstances it is, perhaps, as well you shouldn't know. Now, I want to ask you a few questions, my old friend-- and look here, I am going, first of all, to make you a little present." I slipped my fingers into my waistcoat pocket, produced a half-sovereign, and pressed it into the palm of his wrinkled old hand. "To buy tobacco with--no, don't thank me," I said quickly, as he began to express gratitude. "Now, answer a few questions I am going to put to you. In the first place, how long have you been in Sir Charles' service?" "Sixteen years, come Michaelmas," he answered promptly. "I came from Diss. I mind the time my father--" "How did Sir Charles, or Mr. Thorold as he was then, first hear of you?"