to eternity. Confirmatory
evidence of the siege of Cranley and his merry men was to be seen in
the outside wall, which was dinted with bullet marks made by the King's
troops as they tried to hit the smugglers, firing through the circular
windows.

The innkeeper rambled on in this fashion until the entry of Charles with
a table-cloth reminded him of the flight of time, and he withdrew with a
halting apology for having sat there talking so long. The fat waiter
saluted Colwyn with a grave bow, and proceeded to lay the cloth. When he
had done this he left the room and returned with a bottle of claret,
which he put down in front of the fire, and proceeded to warm the wine,
keeping his hand on the bottle as he did so. Then he lifted the bottle
and held it to the light before setting it carefully on the table.

"Your knowledge of wine is not of much use to you in Flegne, Charles,"
remarked Colwyn. "You do not belong to these parts, I fancy."

"No, sir. I'm a Londoner born and bred," replied the waiter, in his soft
whisper.

"Why did you leave it? Londoners, as a rule, prefer their city to any
other part of the world."

"I'd starve there now that my hearing is gone. London takes everything
from you, but gives you nothing in return. I'm only too grateful to Mr.
Benson for employing me here, considering the nature of my affliction.
No London hotel would give me a job now. But though I do say it, sir, I
think I make myself useful to Mr. Benson, and earn my keep and the few
shillings he gives me. I save him all the trouble I can."

This was undoubtedly true, as Colwyn had observed during his former
visit to the inn. The deaf waiter was, to all intents and purposes, the
real manager of the inn, leaving the innkeeper free to pursue his
solitary life while he attended to the bar and the cellar, helped Ann
with the work, and waited on infrequent travellers. Doubtless the
arrangement suited both, though it could not have been profitable to
either, for there was little more than a bare living for one in such a
place.

Looking up suddenly from his plate, Colwyn caught the waiter's black
eyes fixed on him in a keen penetrating gaze. Meeting the detective's
eyes, Charles instantly lowered his own. But for the latter action
Colwyn would have thought nothing of the incident, for he was aware that
Charles, on account of his deafness, had to watch the lips of people he
was serving in order to read their lips. But if Charles had been mer