“My dear Friend,” it ran, “I am so ashamed of myself and so sorry for my rudeness last night, for which I deeply apologise.  If you knew all that I had gone through at the hands of those dreadful mendicants, you would forgive me.—­L.R.”

 “P.S.—­I have ordered breakfast at 10.  Don’t go down much before,
  for your own sake.”

Somewhat relieved in my mind, for I thought she was really angry with me, not altogether without cause, I rose, dressed and set to work to write some letters.  While I was doing so I heard the wheels of a carriage beneath and opening my window, saw the Atterby-Smith family in the act of departing in the Castle bus.  Smith himself seemed to be still enraged, but the others looked depressed.  Indeed I heard the wife of his bosom say to him,

“Calm yourself, my dear.  Remember that Providence knows what is best for us and that beggars on horseback are always unjust and ungrateful.”

To which her spouse replied,

“Hold your infernal tongue, will you,” and then began to rate the servants about the luggage.

Well, off they went.  Glaring through the door of the bus, Mr. Smith caught sight of me leaning out of the window, seeing which I waved my hand to him in adieu.  His only reply to this courtesy was to shake his fist, though whether at me or at the Castle and its inhabitants in general, I neither know nor care.

When I was quite sure that they had gone and were not coming back again to find something they had forgotten, I went downstairs and surprised a conclave between the butler, Moxley, and his satellites, reinforced by Lady Ragnall’s maid and two other female servants.

“Gratuities!” Moxley was exclaiming, which I thought a fine word for tips, “not a smell of them!  His gratuities were—­’Damn your eyes, you fat bottle-washer,’ being his name for butler. My eyes, mind you, Ann, not Alfred’s or William’s, and that because he had tumbled over his own rugs.  Gentleman!  Why, I name him a hog with his litter.”

“Hogs don’t have litters, Mr. Moxley,” observed Ann smartly.

“Well, young woman, if there weren’t no hogs, there’d be no litters, so there!  However, he won’t root about in this castle no more, for I happened to catch a word or two of what passed between him and her Ladyship last night.  He said straight out that she was making love to that little Mr. Quatermain who wanted her money, and probably not for the first time as they had forgathered in Africa.  A gentleman, mind you, Ann, who although peculiar, I like, and who, the keeper Charles tells me, is the best shot in the whole world.”

“And what did she say to that?” asked Ann.

“What did she say?  What didn’t she say, that’s the question.  It was just as though all the furniture in the room got up and went for them Smiths.  Well, having heard enough, and more than I wanted, I stepped off with the tray and next minute out they all come and grab the bedroom candlesticks.  That’s all and there’s her Ladyship’s bell.  Alfred, don’t stand gaping there but go and light the hot-plates.”