"You may take your oath to it!" said James Hutchings truculently, in a
much more unpleasant tone than Mr. Manley had used. "I just came back to
get a box of cigarettes I left in the cupboard of my pantry. I don't want
any help in smoking them from any one here."

He opened the library door gently, went quietly through it, and drew it
to behind him, leaving Mr. Manley frowning at it. It was a fact that
Hutchings carried a packet, which might very well have been cigarettes;
but Mr. Manley did not believe his story of his errand. He took it that
he was leaving the Castle by one of the library windows. Well, it was no
business of his.

At a few minutes past eight the next morning he was roused from the
deep dreamless sleep which follows good food and good wine well
digested, by a loud knocking on his door. It was not the loud, steady
and prolonged knocking which the third housemaid found necessary to
wake him. It was more vigorous and more staccato and jerkier. Also, a
voice was calling loudly:

"Mr. Manley, sir! Mr. Manley! Mr. Manley!"

For all the noise and insistence of the calling Mr. Manley did not awake
quickly. It took him a good minute to realize that he was Herbert Manley
and in bed, and half a minute longer to gather that the knocking and
calling were unusual and uncommonly urgent. He sat up in bed and yawned
terrifically.

Then he slipped out of bed--the knocking and calling still
continued--unlocked the door, and found Holloway, the second footman, on