"Go to bed, you goose," said Spencer Coyle, with another laugh. "But, before you go, tell me what he said when she told him he was trying to deceive you."
"'Take me there yourself, then, and lock me in!'"
"And did she take him?"
"I don't know—I came up."
Spencer Coyle exchanged a long look with his pupil.
"I don't think they're in the hall now. Where's Owen's own room?"
"I haven't the least idea."
Mr. Coyle was perplexed; he was in equal ignorance, and he couldn't go about trying doors. He bade young Lechmere sink to slumber, and came out into the passage. He asked himself if he should be able to find his way to the room Owen had formerly shown him, remembering that, in common with many of the others, it had its ancient name painted upon it. But the corridors of Paramore were intricate; moreover, some of the servants would still be up, and he didn't wish to have the appearance of roam-