The sergeant took another look round, and apparently could only come to the same conclusion. As if in token of surrender, he took off his hat.
"Well sir, it's like this. Just a few minutes ago we received a message from Scotland Yard saying as you'd kidnapped Lady Valerie Woodchester, an' she'd escaped from you, an' they 'ad reason to believe she might 'ave come here to Anford, an' you might be arfter 'er to try an' kidnap 'er again, an' we was to endeavour to trace 'er an' afford her every protection, an' if we found you hanging about there was a warrant for your arrest. Well, we tried the hotels first, and as soon as we rang up 'ere they told us that Lady Valerie 'ad just come in and taken a room. So I come along to see if she'd like to make a statement an' if she wanted a man to look arfter 'er, an' now you're here with" er, and… Well," said the sergeant, plugging his initial thesis, "there must be somethink barmy about it."
"There's a warrant for my arrest?" Simon ejaculated. "What on earth is it for?"
"Kidnapping Lady Valerie. An' obstructing the police in the execution of their duty."
Simon had wondered how Mr Teal would officially describe being locked up in a wardrobe with an ex-cabinet minister.
"Good Lord," he said, "does it look as if Lady Valerie was excited about being rescued?"
"That," said the sergeant, with lugubrious finality, "is wot looks so barmy."
The Saint grinned and leaned back.
"Are you sure somebody hasn't been pulling your leg?" he suggested.
"I dunno. If anybody has, 'e'll be sorry he ever tried it before I've finished with 'im. But it sounded all right, just like the regular communications we 'ave from the Yard when there's anythink doing." The sergeant turned his disappointedly bewildered eyes back to the girl. "Did Mr Templar kidnap you, miss?" he asked, like a drowning man clutching at the last straw.