She led him, both tiptoeing, in front of Constable Marks toward the music room.
“You will find a little alcove window at the end of the music room. Raise it very softly and....”
“I have no faith in either your doors or your windows as a means of escape. But I will make the third and last attempt.” He whispered this in her ear, with a return of his natural and whimsical manner. They reached the door and opened it with a faint click, since their hands met on the handle. They did not see the Law unveiling its eyes.
“Will it make it better for you if I get away now?” he asked.
“Yes, yes! do it for my sake!”
“Then I’ll go.” He bent toward her.
“Good-bye, Prince Run-Away.” she said, and added wistfully, “Oh, will you ever come again?”
He kissed her.
“This afternoon,” he answered; and slipped into the music room quickly, lest she should rebuke him.
“’Alt! ’alt!” Mr. Alfred Marks, it appeared could move suddenly when duty called. He went after the vagabond at a heavy jog-trot, waving his weapon in circles that threatened not only his prisoner, but the lady of the villa and the antiques as well, not to mention portions of Mr. Marks’s own anatomy.