“What’s the time, Roger?” he asked, nervously, as he followed Monk up the old Jacobean staircase to the familiar library.

“Must be near church-time, I believe, Sir; though I haven’t heard the bells yet. Squire’ll be main glad to see ’ee, Sir,” the man went on, as he opened the library-door; “glad as a hernshaw Squire’ll be!”

“He wants to get his book done, Monk, I suppose?”

“ ’Tis all he thinks of, Sir. Night and day, ’tis all he thinks of.”

“Why doesn’t he advertise for another secretary?”

Roger Monk made a deprecatory grimace and then hurriedly placed his large first-finger upon his lips.

“Squire’s had enough of secretaries,” he whispered, “and so, by Grimey, have I!”

His voice resumed its normal tone when they were well inside the room.