And these were all over now; and that was the very door through which the Vice-Chancellor was accustomed to escape from his assassins!

* * * * *

Jack sighed again; passed through, picked up the parcel of clothes that lay in the window-seat, unhitched the hammock in which Frank had slept last night (he noticed the ends of three cigarettes placed on the cover of a convenient biscuit-tin), and went off resembling a retiarius.  Mrs. Jillings sniffed again as she looked after him up the court.  She didn’t understand those young gentlemen at all; and frequently said so.

(VI)

At half-past six o’clock that morning—­about the time that Jack awoke in Cambridge—­John Harris, laborer, emerged, very sleepy and frowsy—­for he had sat up late last night at the “Spotted Dog”—­from the door of a small cottage on the Ely road, in the middle of Grunty Fen.  He looked this way and that, wondering whether it were as late as his kitchen-clock informed him, and observing the sun, that hung now lamentably high up in that enormous dome of summer sky that sat on the fenland like a dish-cover on a dish.  And as he turned southwards he became aware of a young gentleman carrying a carpet-bag in one hand, and a gray jacket over his other arm, coming up to him, not twenty yards away.  As he came nearer, Mr. Harris noticed that his face was badly bruised as by a blow.

“Good morning,” said the young gentleman.  “Hot work.”

John Harris made some observation.

“I want some work to do,” said the young gentleman, disregarding the observation.  “I’m willing and capable.  Do you know of any?  I mean, work that I shall be paid for.  Or perhaps some breakfast would do as a beginning.”

John Harris regarded the young gentleman in silence.

CHAPTER II

(I)

Merefield Court, as every tourist knows may be viewed from ten to five on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when the family are not in residence, and on Tuesdays only, from two to four, when they are.  It is unnecessary, therefore, to describe it very closely.

It stands very nearly on the top of a hill, protected by woods from the north winds of Yorkshire; and its towers and pinnacles can be seen from ten miles away down the valley.  It is built, architecturally considered, in the form of an irregular triangular court—­quite unique—­with the old barbican at the lower end; the chapel wing directly opposite; the ruins of the old castle on the left, keep and all, and the new house that is actually lived in on the right.  It is of every conceivable date (the housekeeper will supply details) from the British mound on which the keep stands, to the Georgian smoking-room built by the grandfather of the present earl; but the main body of the house, with which we are principally concerned—­the long gray pile facing south