He turned and looked with sharp, slow scrutiny round the walls: 

“The fact is I have been so far engaged in hoarding—­heaping together.  The things in this house—­my extraordinary collections—­have been the nuts—­and I, the squirrel.  But now the nuts are bursting out of the hole, and the squirrel wants to see what he’s got.  That brings me to my point!”

He turned emphatically toward Faversham, leaning hard on a marqueterie table that stood between them: 

“I offer you, sir, the post, the double post, of agent to my property, and of private secretary, or assistant to myself.  I offer you a salary of three thousand a year—­three thousand pounds, a year—­if you will undertake the management of my estates, and be my lieutenant in the arrangement of my collections.  I wish—­as I have said—­to unpack this house; and I should like to leave my property in order before I die.  Which reminds me, I should of course be perfectly ready to make proper provision, by contract, or otherwise, so that in the event of any sudden termination of our agreement—­my death for instance—­you should be adequately protected.  Well, there, in outline, is my proposal!”

During this extraordinary speech Faversham’s countenance had reflected with tolerable clearness the various impressions made by it—­incredulous or amused astonishment—­bewilderment—­deepening gravity—­coming round again to astonishment.  He raised himself in his chair.

“You wish to make me your agent—­the agent for these immense estates?”

“I do.  I had an excellent agent once—­twenty years ago.  But old Dovedale stole him from me—­bribed him by higher pay.  Since then I have had nothing but clerks—­rent-collectors—­rascally makeshifts, all of them.”

“But I know nothing about land—­I have had no experience!”

“A misfortune—­but in some ways to the good.  I don’t want any cocksure fellow, with brand-new ideas lording it over me.  I should advise you of course.”

“But—­at the same time—­I should not be content with a mere clerk’s place, Mr. Melrose,” said Paversham, a momentary flash in his dark eye.  “I am one of those men who are better as principals than as subordinates.  Otherwise I should be in harness by now.”

Melrose eyed him askance for a moment—­then said:  “I understand.  I should be willing to steer my course accordingly—­to give you a reasonable freedom.  There are two old clerks in the estate-office, who know everything that is to be known about the property, and there are my solicitors both in Carlisle and Pengarth.  For the rest, you are a lawyer, and there are some litigations pending.  Your legal knowledge would be of considerable service.  If you are the clever fellow I take you for, a month or two’s hard work, the usual technical books, some expert advice—­and I have little doubt you would make as good an agent as any of them.  Mind, I am not prepared to spend unlimited money—­nor to run my estates as a Socialist concern.  But I gather you are as good a Conservative as myself.”