"Very likely, sir. I turned when I 'eard the click, and the lady stuck 'er leg over the sill."
"Stuck her—" Hugh gasped.
"Quite so, your ludship. She 'ad on riding-breeches. A very pretty lady she was, your ludship," added Watkins contemplatively.
"So you've said before," commented Hugh. "And what next?"
"I said: 'Who are you, ma'am?' And she laughed, and said: 'Oh, it's only me, Watkins.' And I said: 'Well, ma'am, I'm sure I don't know 'ow you come to 'ave my name, but I really can't permit you to come in 'ere. Please get down, and go around to the front door.'
"With that she 'opped over the window-sill, and stood there, looking about 'er. 'Come on, now, if you please, ma'am,' I said again. And I'm sure, your ludship, I was considerate of 'er all the way through."
"I'll bet a pony you were," said Hugh sympathetically.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, your ludship. She looked around, as I said, and she walked over to the fireplace as cool as a cucumber. 'I see they did find it, after all,' she says, and she stooped and peeked in at the 'ole where the stone 'ad dropped. At that I knew she could be no friend, so I poked the pistol at 'er, and said: 'I don't want to 'arm you, ma'am, but you'll 'ave to come outside with me.'
"'Oh,' she says, 'you wouldn't 'urt me, Watkins. You're a nice, kind, old valet, aren't you?'"
Watkins's voice throbbed with renewed indignation, and we all three, the gravity of the situation forgotten, collapsed on the dusty floor.