“Which door shall I drive to, sir?” asked the coachman. “The front or the back?”
“The back,” said Captain Wragge, feeling that the less notice he attracted in his present position, the safer that position might be.
The carriage twice crossed the stream before the coachman made his way through the grounds into a dreary enclosure of stone. At an open door on the inhabited side of the place sat a weather-beaten old man, busily at work on a half-finished model of a ship. He rose and came to the carriage door, lifting up his spectacles on his forehead, and looking disconcerted at the appearance of a stranger.
“Is Mr. Noel Vanstone staying here?” asked Captain Wragge.
“Yes, sir,” replied the old man. “Mr. Noel came yesterday.”
“Take that card to Mr. Vanstone, if you please,” said the c
