And he knew everything! Not a secret was kept from him. Had anyone in the village an episode in his life, which he hoped and deemed hidden and forgotten, Slummers knew it, and managed by some dropped word or look to let the miserable man know that he knew it.
Before he had been at Hurst a week he had half the servants and villagers in his power.
Power! That was the secret mainspring of the man's existence. He loved power.
Give even the fiend his due. This man had one good quality, he was devoted to his master. Saving this one great event of his life--the theft and loss of his will--Stephen trusted him in everything.
And Slummers admired him. In his eyes Stephen was the cleverest man on earth, and being the cleverest man on earth Slummers was content to serve him. Yes, Slummers was devoted to his master, but he made up for it in his detestation of the rest of mankind in general, and of one man in particular--Jack Newcombe.
Between Jack--honest, frank, and reckless Jack--and the serpent-like Slummers there had been a feud which had commenced from the moment of their first introduction.
On that occasion Slummers had been sent with a message to Jack's room. Jack happened to be out, and Slummers whiled away the tediousness of waiting by opening a drawer in Leonard's table and reading some unimportant letters. Jack, coming in with his usual suddenness, caught him and kicked him. Jack had forgotten it long ago, but Slummers had not, and he waited for the time till he could return that kick in his own fashion.
The days passed, and Mr. Hudsley's task appeared to be nearing a conclusion.
One morning he came up to the Hurst, his hands behind his back, his head bent as usual, and asked for Stephen.
Stephen was in the library, and Slummers noiselessly ushered in the lawyer. It happened to be what Stephen would have called one of his bad mornings. He was seated at the table, not at work, but looking at the pile of papers with lack-luster eyes, that saw nothing, and pale, drawn face.
Hudsley had seen him like this before, but his keen eyes looked like steel blades.
Stephen started and put his thin, white hand across his brow.
"Good morning," he said. "Good morning. Any news? Sit down."
"I have no news," he said. "I think I may say that there are no more surprises for us. You know the extent of the fortune which you hold!"