In this mood,
the sensation of spiritual and physical fatigue gaining on him, but
a quiet moonlight in all his reveries, he reached his house. He was
just putting his latch-key in the door, when it was opened by James,
who stared at him for a second, and then dropped his eyes, and put his
hand before his nose. Dr. Renton compressed his lips on an involuntary
smile.
"Ah! James, you're up late. It's near one."
"I sat up for Mrs. Renton and the young lady, sir. They're just come,
and gone up stairs."
"All right, James. Take your lamp and come in here. I've got something
to say to you." The man followed him into the library at once, with
some wonder on his sleepy face.
"First, put some coal on that fire, and light the chandelier. I shall
not go up stairs to-night." The man obeyed. "Now, James, sit down in
that chair." He did so, beginning to look frightened at Dr. Renton's
grave manner.
"James,"--a long pause,--"I want you to tell me the truth. Where did
you go to-night? Come, I have found you out.
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