Part 2 (1/2)

”Tallish man, sir; wears corduroys. Dark hair and eyes; looks straight at you, sir.”

”Hmm. Very good. Perhaps I wasn't a fool,” he was thinking.

”Do you know Mr. Curtis?” he demanded.

”Yes, sir.” This came very shortly.

”Should you call him--er, a hard man?” asked Nicholas smoothly.

Again amazement fell on Jessop's soul, revealing itself momentarily in his features. And again the amazement was concealed.

”He's a good business man, sir,” came the cautious reply.

”You mean--?” suggested Nicholas.

”A good business man isn't ordinarily what you'd call tender-like,” said Jessop grimly.

Nicholas flashed a glance of amus.e.m.e.nt at him.

”I suppose not,” he replied dryly.

There was a pause.

”Do the tenants ever ask to see me?” demanded Nicholas.

”They used to, sir. Now they save their shoe-leather coming up the drive.”

”Ah, you told them--?”

”Your orders, sir. You saw no one.”

”I see.” Nicholas's fingers were beating a light tattoo on the arm of his chair. ”Well, those are my orders. That will do. You needn't come again till I ring.”

Jessop turned towards the door.

”Oh, by the way,” Nicholas's voice arrested him on the threshold, ”I fancy the middle window is unlatched.”

Jessop returned and went behind the curtains.

”It was, wasn't it?” asked Nicholas as he emerged.

”Yes, sir.”

Jessop left the room.

”Now how on earth did he know that?” he queried as he walked across the hall.

The curtains had been drawn when Nicholas had been carried into the room.

The knowledge, for a man unable to move from his chair, seemed little short of uncanny.