;
and held him gently until he had done so.

"Good night, old chap," said Cleek. "Hello, Nurse, got a sore finger,
have you, eh? How did that happen? It looks painful."

"It is, sir, though I can't for the life of me think whatever could
have made a thing so bad from just scratching one's finger, unless
it could have happened that there was something poisonous on the
wretched magpie's claws. One never can be sure where those nasty
things go nor what they dip into."

"The magpie?" repeated Cleek. "What do you mean by that, Nurse? Have
you had an unpleasant experience with a magpie, then?"

"Yes, sir, that big one of Mr. Essington's: the nasty creature
that's always flying about. It was a fortnight ago, sir. Mistress'
pet dog had got into the nursery and laid hold of Sambo--which is his
lordship's rag doll, sir, as he never will go to sleep without--tore
it well nigh to pieces did the dog; and knowing how his lordship
would cry and mourn if he saw it like that, I fetched in my
work-basket and started to mend it. I'd just got it pulled into
something like shape and was about to sew it up when I was called
out of the room for a few minutes, and when I came back there was
that wretched Magpie that had been missing for several days right
inside my work-basket trying to steal my reels of cotton, sir. It
had come in through the open window--like it so often does,
nasty thing. I loathe magpies and I believe that that one knows
it. Anyway, when I caught up a towel and began to flick at it to get
it out of the room, it turned on me and scratched or pecked my
finger, and it's been bad ever since. Cook says she thinks I must
have touched it against something poisonous after the skin was
broken. Maybe I did, sir, but I can't think what."

Cleek made no comment; merely turned on his heel and walked out of
the room.

The second curious thing occurred between nine o'clock and half-past,
when the gentlemen of the party were lingering at the table over
post-prandial liqueurs and cigars, and the ladies had adjourned to
the drawing-room. A recollection of having carelessly left his
kit-bag unlocked drew Cleek to invent an excuse for leaving the
room for a minute or two and sent him speeding up the stairs. The
gas in the upper halls had been lowered while the members of the
household were below; the passages were dim and shadowy, and the
thick carpet on halls and stairs gave forth never a murmur of sound
from under his feet nor from