And he did make his acquaintance. As Cleon and the landlord sat
hob-nobbing together in the little snuggery behind the bar, Mr. Deedes
put in his head to ask a question of the latter. Thereupon the landlord
begged permission to introduce his friend Mr. Cleon to the notice of his
guest, Mr. Deedes. The two men bowed, Mr. Cleon rather sulkily; but Mr.
Deedes was all affability and smiling _bonhommie_. He had several
questions to ask, and he sat down on the only vacant chair in the little
room. He wanted to know the distance to Keswick; how much higher
Helvellyn was than Fairfield; whether it was possible to get any potted
char for breakfast, and so on; on all which questions both Cleon and the
landlord had something to say. But talking being dry work, as Mr. Deedes
smilingly observed, brought naturally to mind the fact that the landlord
had some excellent dry sherry, and that one could not do better this
warm evening than have another bottle fetched up out of the cool depths
of the cellar. Mr. Cleon, being pressed, was nothing loth to join Mr.
Deedes over this bottle. Mr. Deedes, without condescending into
familiarity, made himself very agreeable, but did not sit long. After
imbibing a couple of glasses, he bade the landlord and the valet an
affable good-night, and went off decorously to bed.

Mr. Deedes was up betimes next morning, and took a three miles' trudge
over the hills before breakfast. He spent a quiet day mooning about the
neighbourhood, and really enjoying himself after his own fashion,
although his mind was busily engaged all the time in trying to solve the
mystery of the Great Diamond. In the evening he took care to have a few
pleasant words with Cleon, and then early to bed. Two more days passed
away after a similar quiet fashion, and then Mr. Deedes began to chafe
inwardly at the small progress he was making.