He had found his hat and stick, and was on the point of letting himself out of the house, when the little side-door leading to the kitchen hurriedly opened, and Roger Monk made himself visible. He did this with the precipitation of a man reckless with anxiety, and he plunged at once into rapid speech.

“You’ll excuse me, Mr. Solent, for troubling you, but the truth of the matter is, Sir, that this house will be upset by breakfast-time tomorrow, unless you⁠—unless you⁠—would be so kind, Sir, as to help Mrs. Martin and myself.”

“What on earth is coming now?” thought Wolf. “These King’s Barton servants seem pretty hard put to it.”

“ ’Tisn’t as though I didn’t know that it’s above my province to speak,” went on the agitated man. “But speak I must; and if you’re the kind of young gentleman I think you are, you’ll listen to my words.”