e I think I can find a
means. And I shall not be at all surprised if it is still there--despite
the Westgate air."

In saying the last words the Professor relapsed into his former tone of
dry chaff. The Father could not quite make up his mind whether Guildea
was feeling unusually grave or unusually gay. As the two men drew near
to Hyde Park Place their conversation died away and they walked forward
silently in the gathering darkness.

"Here we are!" said Guildea at last.

He thrust his key into the door, opened it and let Father Murchison into
the passage, following him closely and banging the door.

"Here we are!" he repeated in a louder voice.

The electric light was turned on in anticipation of his arrival. He
stood still and looked round.

"We'll have some tea at once," he said. "Ah, Pitting!"

The pale butler, who had heard the door bang, moved gently forward from
the top of the stairs that led to the kitchen, greeted his master
respectfully, took his coat and Father Murchison's cloak, and hung them
on two pegs against the wall.

"All's right, Pitting? All's as usual?" said Guildea.

"Quite so, sir."

"Bring us up some tea to the library."

"Yes, sir."

Pitting retreated. Guildea waited till he had disappeared, then opened
the dining-room door, put his head into the room and kept it there for a
moment, standing perfectly still. Presently he drew back into the
passage, shut the door, and said,

"Let's go upstairs."

Father Murchison looked at him enquiringly, but made no remark. They
ascended the stairs and came into the library. Guildea glanced rather
sharply round. A fire was burning on the hearth. The blue curtains were
drawn. The bright gleam of the strong electric light fell on the long
rows of books, on the writing table,--very orderly in consequence of
Guildea's holiday--and on the uncovered cage of the parrot. Guildea went
up to the cage. Napoleon was sitting humped up on his perch with his
feathers ruffled. His long toes, which looked as if they were covered
with crocodile skin, clung to the bar. His round and blinking eyes were
filmy, like old eyes. Guildea stared at the bird very hard, and then
clucked with his tongue against his teeth. Napoleon shook himself,
lifted one foot, extended his toes, sidled along the perch to the bars
nearest to the Professor and thrust his head against them. Guildea
scratched it with his forefinger two or three times, still gazing
attentively at the parrot;