I groaned aloud.
"Mr. Glenarm preferred this room for working. The
tools were his very own, sir."
"The devil they were!" I exclaimed irascibly. I
snatched a book from the nearest shelf and threw it
open on the table. It was The Tower: Its Early Use
for Purposes of Defense. London: 1816.
I closed it with a slam.
"The sleeping-room is beyond, sir. I hope-"
"Don't you hope any more!" I growled; "and it
doesn't make any difference whether I'm disappointed
or not."
"Certainly not, sir!" he replied in a tone that made
me ashamed of myself.
The adjoining bedroom was small and meagerly furnished.
The walls were untinted and were relieved only
by prints of English cathedrals, French chateaux, and
like suggestions of the best things known to architecture.
The bed was the commonest iron type; and the
other articles of furniture were chosen with a strict regard
for utility. My trunks and bags had been carried
in, and Bates asked from the door f or my commands.
"Mr. Glenarm always breakfasted at seven-thirty, sir,
as near as he could hit it without a timepiece, and he
was quite punctual. His ways were a little odd, sir. He
used to prowl about at night a good deal, and there was
no following him."
"I fancy I shan't do much prowling," I declared.
"And my grandfather's breakfast hour will suit me exactly,
Bates."
"If there's nothing further, sir-"
"That's all;-and Bates-"
"Yes, Mr. Glenarm."
"Of course you understand that I didn't really mean
to imply that you had fired that shot at me?"
"I beg you not to mention it, Mr. Glenarm."
"But it was a little queer. If you should gain any
light on the subject, let me know."
"Certainly, sir."
"But I believe, Bates, that we'd better keep the shades
down at night. These duck hunters hereabouts are apparently
reckless. And you might attend to these now,
-and every evening hereafter."
I wound my watch as he obeyed. I admit that in my
heart I still half-suspected the fellow of complicity with
the person who had fired at me through the dining-room
window. It was rather odd, I reflected, that the shades
should have been open, though I might account for this
by the fact that this curious unfinished establishment
was not subject to the usual laws governing orderly
housekeeping. Bates was evidently aware of my suspicions,
and he remarked, drawing down the last of the
plain green shades: "Mr. Glenarm never drew them, sir. It was a saying
of his, if I may repeat his words, that he liked the open.
These are eastern windows, and he took a quiet pleasure
in letting the light waken him. It was one of his oddities,
sir."
"To be sure. That's all, Bates."
He gravely bade me good night, and I followed him
to the outer door and watched his departing figure,
lighted by a single candle that he had produced from
his pocket.