Borkins
had gone through it some time before. Then he heard the butler's deep,
measured tones in the garden, and caught sight of him talking to one of
the grooms in the courtyard. He heaved something like a sigh of relief.
Dollops left, and Cleek then rejoined the two men who stood talking
together in low, earnest tones.
"Now," said he, briskly, "if you're ready, Mr. Lake, I am. Let us be off.
Sir Nigel, I hope by dinner time to have some sort of news to impart to
you, whether good or ill remains to be seen. By the way, have you, in
your employ, a dark, square-faced individual, with close-set eyes and a
straggling moustache? Rather undershot, too, I believe? It would be
interesting to me to know."
Merriton considered for a moment.
"Tell you the truth, Mr. Headland, I can't fit the description in
anywhere among the people here," he said after a pause. "Dimmock's
fairish--though he _has_ got a moustache, but it's a military one, and
Borkins is, of course, smooth shaven. The other men are clean-shaved,
too, except for old Doughty, the head gardener, and he wears a full, gray
beard.
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