“Yes, I know that.  And what of it?” demanded the millionaire sharply.

“Nothing; only I thought you would like to know.  I fancied you had come here to see if—­”

“I did not.  I can trust you to see that my wife and Lambert do not meet without spying myself.”

“If you love and trust your wife so entirely, I wonder you ask me to spy on her at all,” said Silver with a faint sneer.

“She is a woman, and we gypsies have sufficient of the Oriental in us to mistrust even the most honest women.  Lambert has not been to The Manor?”

“No.  That’s a bad sign.  He can’t trust himself in her presence.”

“I’ll choke the life out of you, rat that you are, if you talk in such a way about my wife.  What you think doesn’t matter.  Hold your tongue, and come to business.  I asked you here to take my instructions.”

Silver was rather cowed by this outburst, as he was cunning enough to know precisely how far he could venture with safety.  “I am waiting,” he observed in sullen tones.

“Garvington—­as I knew he would—­has ordered us off the land.  As the wood is really mine, since I hold it as security, having paid off the mortgage, I don’t choose that he should deal with it as though it were his own.  Here”—­he passed along a letter—­“I have written that on my office paper, and you will see that it says, I have heard how gypsies are camping here, and that it is my wish they should remain.  Garvington is not to order them off on any pretext whatsoever.  You understand?”

“Yes.”  Silver nodded, and slipped the paper into his breast pocket after a hasty glance at the contents, which were those the writer had stated.  “But if Garvington wishes to know why you take such an interest in the gypsies, what am I to say?”

“Say nothing.  Simply do what I have told you.”

“Garvington may suspect that you are a Romany.”

“He won’t.  He thinks that I’m in Paris, and will never connect me with Ishmael Hearne.  If he asks questions when we meet I can tell him my own tale.  By the way, why is he so anxious to get rid of the tribe?”

“There have been many burglaries lately in various parts of Hengishire,” explained the secretary.  “And Garvington is afraid lest the gypsies should be mixed up with them.  He thinks, this camp being near, some of the men may break into the house.”

“What nonsense!  Gypsies steal, I don’t deny, but in an open way.  They are not burglars, however, and never will be.  Garvington has never seen any near The Manor that he should take fright in this way.”

“I am not so sure of that.  Once or twice I have seen that girl who came to you hanging about the house.”

“Chaldea?” Pine started and looked earnestly at his companion.

“Yes.  She told Mrs. Belgrove’s fortune one day when she met her in the park, and also tried to make Lady Agnes cross her hand with silver for the same purpose.  Nothing came of that, however, as your wife refused to have her fortune told.”