The man-servant whom the Duke had put in charge of the "Brand," my present habitation, and who remained with me always in the room while I worked, stood at my elbow.
"I would like some coffee, Grooton," I said.

"I am going to walk up to the house with these papers, and I shall want a bath and some breakfast directly I get back." "Very good, sir.

It shall be ready." I folded up the sheets and maps, and placing them in an oilskin case, tied them round my body under my waistcoat.

Then I withdrew all the cartridges save one from the revolver which had lain all night within easy reach of my right hand, and slipped it into my pocket.
"Coffee ready, Grooton ?" "In one moment, sir." I watched him bending over the stove, pale, dark-visaged, with the subdued manners and voice which mark the aristocracy of servitude.

My employer's confidence in him must be immense, for while he watched over me I was practically in his power.
"Have you been long with the Duke, Grooton ?" I asked him.
"Twenty-one years, sir.