Before leaving the house he rushed into the kitchen, found a long clothes-line, of which he seemed to know exactly the whereabouts, and appropriated it.
The next minute he was tying the handle of Ilam’s front-door firmly to the railing, so that it would be impossible to open the door from the inside. He secured in the same manner the side-door and also the gate in the wall of the kitchen yard. He then fixed pieces of rope under windows, in such a manner that a person endeavouring to leap from a window to the ground would almost certainly be caught in the rope, and break a leg or an arm, if not a neck or so.
“Cheerful for them!” he murmured maliciously. “I only hope it won’t be Miss Rosie who tries to make her exit by the window. I have answered for her. However, I must take the risks.”
He glanced finally round the house, throwing away some short unused pieces of rope, but keeping two long pieces. He surveyed the house with satisfaction.
“I think I can safely leave it for five minutes or so now,” he said to himself; and he shut his penknife with a vicious snap and put it in his pocket.
Then he ran off at a great speed in the direction of the Central Way. At the southern end of the Central Way, nearly opposite to the general offices of the City, was an elegant building known as the band-house. Here dwelt the majority of the members of Carpentaria’s world-renowned orchestra. Some members, being married to women instead of married to their art, had permission to possess domestic hearths in London and the suburbs, but these were few. The edifice was a very large one, as it. had need to be. A peculiar feature of it was the rehearsal-room on the top floor, constructed, like the finest flats in New York, in such a manner as to be absolutely sound-proof.
Carpentaria rang the electric bell at the portals of the band-house, and the portals were presently opened by a sleepy person whose duty it was to admit bandsmen returning after late leave.
“Look ’ere,” said the porter, “this is a bit thick, this is. Do you know as the hour is exactly——”
“Hold your tongue, you fool!” Carpentaria stopped him briefly, “and go and bring Mr. Bruno to me at once; it’s very important. Let’s have some light.”
“I beg pardon, sir,” said the porter, astounded by this nocturnal apparition of the autocrat of the band. “Mr. Bruno is asleep, sir. He had two whiskies to make him sleep, and went to bed afore midnight, sir.”