She ascertained from old Mazey that it was his master’s custom, during the winter and spring months, to occupy the rooms in the north wing; and during the summer and autumn to cross the Arctic passage of “Freeze-your-Bones,” and live in the eastward apartments which looked out on the garden.  While the Banqueting-Hall remained—­owing to the admiral’s inadequate pecuniary resources—­in its damp and dismantled state, and while the interior of St. Crux was thus comfortlessly divided into two separate residences, no more convenient arrangement than this could well have been devised.  Now and then (as Magdalen understood from her informant) there were days, both in winter and summer, when the admiral became anxious about the condition of the rooms which he was not occupying at the time, and when he insisted on investigating the state of the furniture, the pictures, and the books with his own eyes.  On these occasions, in summer as in winter, a blazing fire was kindled for some days previously in the large grate, and the charcoal was lighted in the tripod-pan, to keep the Banqueting-Hall as warm as circumstances would admit.  As soon as the old gentleman’s anxieties were set at rest the rooms were shut up again, and “Freeze-your-Bones” was once more abandoned for weeks and weeks together to damp, desolation, and decay.  The last of these temporary migrations had taken place only a few days since; the admiral had satisfied himself that the rooms in the east wing were none the worse for the absence of their master, and he might now be safely reckoned on as settled in the north wing for weeks, and perhaps, if the season was cold, for months to come.

Trifling as they might be in themselves, these particulars were of serious importance to Magdalen, for they helped her to fix the limits of the field of search.  Assuming that the admiral was likely to keep all his important documents within easy reach of his own hand, she might now feel certain that the Secret Trust was secured in one or other of the rooms in the north wing.

In which room?  That question was not easy to answer.

Of the four inhabitable rooms which were all at the admiral’s disposal during the day—­that is to say, of the dining-room, the library, the morning-room, and the drawing-room opening out of the vestibule—­the library appeared to be the apartment in which, if he had a preference, he passed the greater part of his time.  There was a table in this room, with drawers that locked; there was a magnificent Italian cabinet, with doors that locked; there were five cupboards under the book-cases, every one of which locked.  There were receptacles similarly secured in the other rooms; and in all or any of these papers might be kept.