THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
to the other irresolutely, and drew a deep breath.
"Mister Henry—" he began.
"Well," I said.
"Something happen. Very bad here. You go home."
His sudden change of manner, and the shadowy, musty silence around me threatened to shake the coolness I had attempted to assume. Unconsciously my hand dropped to the hilt of my travelling sword. I looked across at him through the shadows.
"You go home," said Brutus.
"Something will happen, or something has happened?" I asked.
But Brutus only shook his head stupidly.
"Very bad. You go home," he persisted.
"You go to the devil," I said, "and leave that candle. I won't burn down the house."
He moved reluctantly towards the door.
"Monsieur very angry," said Brutus.
"Shut the door," I said, "the draft is blowing the candle."
He pulled it to without another word, and I could hear him fumbling with the lock.
For the last ten years I doubt if anything had been changed in that room, except for the addition of three blankets which Brutus had evidently laid some hours before on
[81]
