Over this complex situation the mind of Keggs, the butler, played
like a searchlight. Keggs was a man of discernment and sagacity. He
had instinct and reasoning power. Instinct told him that Maud, all
unsuspecting the change that had taken place in Albert's attitude
toward her romance, would have continued to use the boy as a link
between herself and George: and reason, added to an intimate
knowledge of Albert, enabled him to see that the latter must
inevitably have betrayed her trust. He was prepared to bet a
hundred pounds that Albert had been given letters to deliver and
had destroyed them. So much was clear to Keggs. It only remained to
settle on some plan of action which would re-establish the broken
connection. Keggs did not conceal a tender heart beneath a rugged
exterior: he did not mourn over the picture of two loving fellow
human beings separated by a misunderstanding; but he did want to
win that sweepstake.
His position, of course, was delicate. He could not got to Maud and
beg her to confide in him. Maud would not understand his motives,
and might leap to the not unjustifiable conclusion that he had been
at the sherry. No! Men were easier to handle than women. As soon as
his duties would permit--and in the present crowded condition of
the house they were arduous--he set out for George's cottage.
"I trust I do not disturb or interrupt you, sir," he said, beaming
in the doorway like a benevolent high priest. He had doffed his
professional manner of austere disapproval, as was his custom in
moments of leisure.
"Not at all," replied George, puzzled. "Was there anything . . .?"
"There was, sir."
"Come along in and sit down."
"I would not take the liberty, if it is all the same to you, sir. I
would prefer to remain standing."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Uncomfortable, that is
to say, on the part of George, who was wondering if the butler
remembered having engaged him as a waiter only a few nights back.
Keggs himself was at his ease. Few things ruffled this man.
"Fine day," said George.
"Extremely, sir, but for the rain."
"Oh, is it raining?"
"Sharp downpour, sir."
"Good for the crops," said George.
"So one would be disposed to imagine, sir."
Silence fell again. The rain dripped from the eaves.
"If I might speak freely, sir . . .?" said Keggs.
"Sure. Shoot!"
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
"I mean, yes. Go ahead!"
The butler cleared his throat.
"Might I begin by remarking that your little affair of the 'eart,
if I may use the expression, is no secret in the Servants' 'All? I
'ave no wish to seem to be taking a liberty or presuming, but I
should like to intimate that the Servants' 'All is aware of the
facts."