"No. Rather wait 'ere for 'is message." "Very well. Sit down and make yerself comfortable, and no doubt there'll be a bite er dinner fer yer, if you're patient. Won't say 'no' to a nibble er chicken, I lay, follered with a dash er Peach Melba?... I thought not." So saying, the garrulous Jarvis proceeded kitchenward to summon Minnie and entrust her with the message for Mr. Deland, and then returned to the servants' hall and passed the rest of the time with Dollops, talking of London--a subject which appeared to be dear to both their hearts, and which certainly gave them something in common with each other. Minnie returned in ten minutes bearing a little note upon her silver salver, which she presented to the smiling Dollops with a mock bow and a courtesy. She was a pert little country thing, with a trick of the eye that took a man's heart. "'Ere's a note fer yer lordship," she said smartly. "Your gentleman says 'e's sorry 'e can't get down, and it don't matter about the blue trousies a particle. And 'e don't need you this evenin', so that you kin explore the countryside if yer want to. Wot say to a little walk, Mr. Ginger-'Air? It's my evenin' out, and I don't mind if I do." Dollops winked and nudged her with his elbow. "You're a pretty piece, _you_ are, and if we was in Lunnon I'd be takin' you to the pickshurs," he returned with a grin. "But I've an appointment rahnd about ten o'clock up in the village. I'm yer man till then, Saucer-Eyes. No, Mr. Jarvis, a bit of dinner, as you s'y, wouldn't go quite amiss. I'm that 'ungry me insides rattle." And while Jarvis was carving the chicken for the servants' hall, and giving him a generous portion, and Minnie was off to her room to prink up and change for the evening, Dollops opened his master's letter and scanned the few lines written upon it. "Be under the big gate by twelve o'clock to-night," it said. "Hear all news then. Burn this." So when Jarvis returned Dollops was lighting a cigarette from a twist of note-paper, which, upon sight of the big plate of steaming-hot chicken that awaited him, he promptly threw into the fire, watching absent-mindedly until it had become a charred fragment, and then set to upon the feast with a vengeance. * * * * * Meanwhile Cleek, dinner at last over--a meal passed in sober silence, with the shadow of that dead Thing still hanging over the diners and wiping the joy of life from their faces--went with Mr. Narkom out upon the terrace, cigars alight, and discussed with him the probabilities and possibilities of the whole affair, comparing notes with the Superintendent and jotting down in his business-like way any ideas that occurred to him as they talked together, until his cuff was covered over with pencil scrawls and the furrow between his eyes had deepened considerably.