which were as positive as tone, manner, and language could make them.
Passive obedience appeared to be the one safe course to take--at the
risk of a reception, irritating to any man's self-respect, when he
returned to his employer with a broken teacup in his hand.

The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no
doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible
discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and re-examined
the fragment, he announced his intention of sending the clerk on a
second errand--still without troubling himself to explain what his
incomprehensible instructions meant.

"If I am not mistaken," he began, "the Reading Rooms, in our town, open
as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the
stroke of the clock." He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay
open on his bed. "Ask the librarian," he continued, "for the third
volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' Open the
book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of
paper between those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is
looking at you, and bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in
mind that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you
again."

On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was not a man accustomed to
insist on what was due to his dignity. At the same time he was a
sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to which his
responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating
reserve, not even excused by a word of apology, reached the limits of
his endurance. He respectfully protested.