"The basement door—is it bolted?"
Dempster dived down to the lower hall and up again, panting for breath.
"The scuttle," said E. E., pointing upwards.
Dempster rushed upstairs, banged away at the roof, and ran down again.
E. E. drew down her veil, and tightened her shawl.
"Oh, Dempster, have you locked the wine-cellar?"
Again Dempster made a rush into the depths of the earth, and came up again dripping with swe—well, perspiration.
"There, I think everything is safe now," he said, offering E. E. his arm.
She took it a moment, then dropped it suddenly.
"Dear me! Dempster, you haven't been near the stable, and I haven't a doubt it is wide open!"