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“You are late to-night,” he said, addressing Adrian with a sort of growl. “I lay down by the horses and went to sleep; I thought when I heard the clock strike one that you were not coming.”

“I was delayed on my way home from the station,” said Rowton briefly; “here, take Satyr, rub him down well and attend to him before you go to bed.”

“Yes, sir. Do you want any supper?”

“None that I can’t get for myself. Good-night, Samson; I shall not need your services before the morning.”

Rowton turned to his left as he spoke; Samson led the horse away to the stables which stood to the right of the Bungalow. Rowton entered the lowly built house under a heavy porch. A paraffin lamp was burning in the hall; he took it up and entered a sort of general sitting-room. It was long and low; there were three windows occupying the greater part of one of the walls; the room was furnished in nondescript style, partly as dining-room and partly as study; a square of carpet placed in front of the fire gave a certain degree of comfort to the upper portion of the apartment; the lower part near the entrance door was bare of carpet and also of furniture. A high desk occupied the whole of one window. Rowton placed the paraffin lamp now on this desk; he turned it up high and the light illuminated the entire room.