delay gave Lord Loudwater's wrath full time to mature.

When the butler entered his master shook his fist at him and roared: "You
scoundrel! You infernal scoundrel! You've been robbing me! You've been
robbing me for years, you blackguard!"

James Hutchings met the charge with complete calm. He shook his head and
said in a surly tone: "No; I haven't done anything of the kind, m'lord."

The flat denial infuriated his master yet more. He spluttered and was for
a while incoherent. Then he became again articulate and said: "You have,
you rogue! You took a commission--a secret commission on that fifty dozen
of champagne I bought last month. You've been doing it for years."

James Hutchings' surly face was transformed. It grew malignant; his
fierce, protruding, red-rimmed blue eyes sparkled balefully, and he
flushed to a redness as deep as that of his master. He knew at once who
had betrayed him, and he was furious--at the betrayal. At the same time,
he was not greatly alarmed; he had never received a cheque from the wine
merchants; all their payments to him had been in cash, and he had always
cherished a warm contempt for his master.

"I haven't," he said fiercely. "And if I had it would be quite
regular--only a perquisite."

For the hundredth time Mr. Manley remarked the likeness between Lord
Loudwater and his butler. They had the same fierce, protruding,
red-rimmed blue eyes, the same narrow, low forehead, the same large ears.
Hutchings' hair was a darker brown than Lord Loudwater's, and his lips
were thinner. But Mr. Manley was sure that, had he worn a beard instead