gested the host timidly; "we have a couple of spare beds."

"Nothing would please me better," answered Mr. Deedes, with solemn
alacrity. "I feel that the healthful air of these hills is doing me an
immensity of good. Kindly send to the Crown at Bowness for my
portmanteau, and ascertain what you have in the house for dinner."

After a while came dinner, and a little later on, Mr. Deedes having
expressed a desire to see something of the lake, the landlord sent to
borrow a boat, and then took his guest for an hour's row on Windermere.
From the water they had a capital view of the low white front of Bon
Repos. There were two gentlemen smoking on the terrace. The lesser of
the two, said the landlord, was M. Platzoff. The taller man was Captain
Ducie, at present a guest at Bon Repos. Then the landlord wandered off
into a long, rambling account of Bon Repos and its owner. Mr. Deedes was
much interested in hearing about the eccentric habits and strange mode
of life of M. Platzoff, with the details of which the landlord was as
thoroughly acquainted as though he had formed one of the household.
Their row on the lake was prolonged for a couple of hours, and Mr.
Deedes went back to the hotel much edified.

In the dusk of evening he encountered Cleon, M. Platzoff's valet, as he
was lounging slowly down the village street on his way to The Jolly
Fishers. Mr. Deedes scrutinised the dark-skinned servant narrowly in
passing. "The face of a cunning, unscrupulous rascal, if ever I saw
one," he muttered to himself. "Nevertheless, I must make his
acquaintance."

And he did make his acquaintance. As Cleon and the landlord sat
hob-nobbing together in the little snuggery behind the bar, Mr. Deedes
put in his head to ask a question of the latter. Thereupon the landlord
begged permission to introduce his friend Mr. Cleon to the notice of his
guest, Mr. Deedes. The two men bowed, Mr. Cleon rather sulkily; but Mr.
Deedes was all affability and smiling _bonhommie_. He had several
questions to ask, and he sat down on the only vacant chair in the little
room. He wanted to know the distance to Keswick; how much higher
Helvellyn was than Fairfield; whether it was possible to get any potted
char for breakfast, and so on; on all which questions both Cleon and the
landlord had something to say. But talking being dry work, as Mr. Deedes
smilingly observed, brought naturally to mind the fact that the landlord
had some excellent dry sherry, and that one c