“This would be the best bedroom,” said Miss Chubb.

It was a fair-sized room on the first floor.  The window looked out on to the roof of an outbuilding; beyond, the deep cutting of the railway line.  Opposite stood the dead wall that Mr. Carlyle had spoken of.

Carrados “looked” round the room with the discriminating glance that sometimes proved so embarrassing to those who knew him.

“I have to take a little daily exercise,” he remarked, walking to the window and running his hand up the woodwork.  “You will not mind my fixing a ‘developer’ here, Miss Chubb—­a few small screws?”

Miss Chubb thought not.  Then she was sure not.  Finally she ridiculed the idea of minding with scorn.

“If there is width enough,” mused Carrados, spanning the upright critically.  “Do you happen to have a wooden foot-rule convenient?”

“Well, to be sure!” exclaimed Miss Chubb, opening a rapid succession of drawers until she produced the required article.  “When we did out this room after Mr. Ghoosh, there was this very ruler among the things that he hadn’t thought worth taking.  This is what you require, sir?”

“Yes,” replied Carrados, accepting it, “I think this is exactly what I require.”  It was a common new white-wood rule, such as one might buy at any small stationer’s for a penny.  He carelessly took off the width of the upright, reading the figures with a touch; and then continued to run a finger-tip delicately up and down the edges of the instrument.

“Four and seven-eighths,” was his unspoken conclusion.

“I hope it will do sir.”

“Admirably,” replied Carrados.  “But I haven’t reached the end of my requirements yet, Miss Chubb.”

“No, sir?” said the landlady, feeling that it would be a pleasure to oblige so agreeable a gentleman, “what else might there be?”

“Although I can see very little I like to have a light, but not any kind of light.  Gas I cannot do with.  Do you think that you would be able to find me an oil lamp?”

“Certainly, sir.  I got out a very nice brass lamp that I have specially for Mr. Ghoosh.  He read a good deal of an evening and he preferred a lamp.”

“That is very convenient.  I suppose it is large enough to burn for a whole evening?”

“Yes, indeed.  And very particular he was always to have it filled every day.”

“A lamp without oil is not very useful,” smiled Carrados, following her towards another room, and absent-mindedly slipping the foot-rule into his pocket.

Whatever Parkinson thought of the arrangement of going into second-rate apartments in an obscure street it is to be inferred that his devotion to his master was sufficient to overcome his private emotions as a self-respecting “man.”  At all events, as they were approaching the station he asked, and without a trace of feeling, whether there were any orders for him with reference to the proposed migration.