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And then she told him—or rather tried to tell him—what the lodger was like. Mrs. Bunting was no hand at talking, but one thing she did impress on her husband’s mind, namely, that Mr. Sleuth was eccentric, as so many clever people are eccentric—that is, in a harmless way—and that he must be humoured.

"He says he doesn’t want to be waited on much," she said at last wiping her eyes, "but I can see he will want a good bit of looking after, all the same, poor gentleman."

And just as the words left her mouth there came the unfamiliar sound of a loud ring. It was that of the drawing-room bell being pulled again and again.

Bunting looked at his wife eagerly. "I think I’d better go up, eh, Ellen?" he said. He felt quite anxious to see their new lodger. For the matter of that, it would be a relief to be doing something again.

"Yes," she answered, "you go up! Don’t keep him waiting! I wonder what it is he wants? I said I’d let him know when his supper was ready."

A moment later Bunting came down again. There was an odd smile on his face. "Whatever d’you think he wanted?" he whispered mysteriously. And as she said nothing, he went on, "He’s asked me for the loan of a Bible!"