For the rest his countenance was indicative of rage and indignation. He was a retired Indian officer.
“What is this noise and altercation about?” cried the half-pay captain, regarding the constables with a malevolent look. “How is this that the sanctity of my private abode is thus violated? Speak! Dost thou hear?”
One of the policemen briefly explained the particulars of the attempted burglary, and the remarkable escape of the robber.
“You have exceeded your duty. How dare you enter the maid’s bedroom in this precipitate—this, ahem! unseemly manner? Do you suppose for one moment that anyone belonging to my establishment would harbour burglars? I say you have gone beyond all reasonable limits; and, ahem! I tell you frankly, that the matter shall not rest here. An Englishman’s house is his castle, and it is not to be invaded by the officers of the law, without—I say without a reasonable excuse.”
“I hope we have a reasonable excuse, sir.”
“I say you have not; don’t contradict me, man, I will not condescend to bandy words with you. This matter shall be inquired into.”
“What is your number?”
“46 T.”
“Good, and yours?” he enquired, turning to the other.
“49 T. But will you allow me to explain——”