He stood quite still for a moment, peering round as though listening. After a minute or two, seemingly satisfied, he switched on a torch he carried, and turned it rapidly round the room. Apparently he saw nothing unusual. The three watchers held their breath.
He went over to the same bit of panelled wall he had been examining the night before.
And then a terrible knowledge smote Bill. He was going to sneeze! The wild race through the dew-laden park the night before had given him a chill. All day he had sneezed intermittently. A sneeze was due now, and nothing on earth would stop it.
He adopted all the remedies he could think of. He pressed his upper lip, swallowed hard, threw back his head and looked at the ceiling. As a last resort he held his nose, and pinched it violently. It was of no avail. He sneezed.
A stifled, checked, emasculated sneeze, but a startling sound in the deadly quiet of the room.
The stranger sprang round, and in the same minute Anthony acted. He flashed on his torch, and jumped full for the stranger. In another minute they were down on the floor together.
“Lights,” shouted Anthony.
Virginia was ready at the switch. The lights came on true and full to-night. Anthony was on top of his man, Bill leant down to give him a hand.
“And now,” said Anthony, “let’s see who you are, my fine fellow.”
He rolled his victim over. It was the neat, dark-bearded stranger from the Cricketers.