"Have you everything?" whispered Frank, who had once more pinned on the plumed hat, and was already listening at the panel of the hall door. There was no time to be lost in talk.
"Yes, I think so."
"Your baggage?"
"My baggage will have to be left, but, God knows, there's little enough of it!"
He wiped his forehead, and looked down at the bound figure, already showing signs of returning consciousness. They heard laughter, and the sound of footsteps passing down the hall without.
Durkin stood beside his wife, and they listened together behind the closed door.
"Not for a minute—not yet," he whispered. Then he looked at her curiously.
"I wonder if you know just what a close call that was!"
"Yes, I know," she said, with her ear against the panel.
He peered back at the figure, and took a deep breath.