“Your pardon, madame,” said the officer, raising his voice, and doubtless finding a certain piquancy in the situation. “You shall not be disturbed again—I promise it,” and he signed for his men to withdraw. “Good-night, sir.”
“Good-night!” answered Stewart, and shut the door.
He was so shaken with mirth that he scarcely heard the outer door close. Then he staggered to the bed and collapsed upon it.
“Oh, little comrade!” he gasped. “Little comrade!” and he buried his head in the clothes to choke back the hysterical shouts of laughter which rose in his throat.
“Hush! Hush!” she warned him, her hand on his shoulder. “Get your coat and hat. Be quick!”
The search for those articles of attire sobered him. He had never before realized how large a small room may become in the dark! His coat he found in one corner; his hat miles away in another. His collar and tie seemed to have disappeared utterly, and he was about to abandon them to their fate, when his hand came into contact with them under the bed. He felt utterly exhausted, and sat on the floor panting for breath. Then somebody stumbled against him.
“Where have you been?” her voice demanded impatiently. “What have you been doing?”
“I have been around the world,” said Stewart. “And I explored it thoroughly.”
Her hand found his shoulder and shook it violently.
“Is this a time for jesting? Come!”