hobble-de-hoy kind of youth, whose business it was to look after the
not extensive Castle stables, emerged in a great heat from round the
corner of the house.

"Now, where on earth have you been?" began the Squire, in a stentorian
tone.

"If you please, sir, Mr. George----"

"There, what did I tell you?" broke in the Squire. "Have I not told
you time after time that you are to mind your own business, and leave
'Mr. George' to mind his? Now take that horse round to the stables,
and see that it is properly fed.

"Come, Quest, come in. We have a quarter of an hour before luncheon,
and can get our business over," and he led the way through the passage
into the tapestried and panelled vestibule, where he took his stand
before the empty fireplace.

Mr. Quest followed him, stopping, ostensibly to admire a particularly
fine suit of armour which hung upon the wall, but really to gain
another moment for reflection.

"A beautiful suit of the early Stuart period, Mr. de la Molle," he
said; "I never saw a better."

"Yes, yes, that belonged to old Sir James, the one whom the Roundheads
shot."

"What! the Sir James who hid the treasure?"