But Miss Falconer
was getting up slowly.
"Now the papers, Mr. Bayne," said she.
To be sure, the papers! I had temporarily forgotten them.
"They can't be here," I said blankly, gazing about the room.
"No, not here. In there." She motioned toward the inner door. "This
is the old suite of the lords of Prezelay. We are in the room of the
guards, where the armed retainers used to lie all night before the fire,
watching. Then comes the antechamber and then the room of the squires
and then the bedchamber of the lord." Her voice had fallen now as if she
thought that the walls were listening. "In the lord's room there is a
secret hiding-place behind a panel; and if the papers are at Prezelay,
they will be there."
I took the candle from her, turned to the door, and opened it.
"I hope they are," I said. "Let us go and see."
The antechamber, the room of the squires, the bedchamber of the lord.
Such terms were fascinating; they called up before me a whole picture
of feudal life. Thanks to the attentions of the Germans, the rooms were
mere empty shells, however, though they must have been rather splendid
when decked out with furniture and portraits and tapestries before the
war.
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