Robert hastened to allay her anxiety.
"Yes," he said, "he's quite safe. We haven't hurt them at all. And please, we're very late, and they'll be anxious at home. Could you send us home in your carriage?"
"Or perhaps there's a hotel near where we could get a carriage," said Anthea. "Martha will be very anxious as it is."
The Vicar had sunk into a chair, overcome by emotion and amazement.
Cyril had also sat down, and was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees because of the soda-water syphon.
"But how did you come to be locked up in the church-tower?" asked the Vicar.
"We went up," said Robert slowly, "and we were tired, and we all went to sleep, and when we woke up we found the door was locked, so we yelled."
"I should think you did!" said the Vicar's wife. "Frightening everybody out of their wits like this! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."
"We are," said Jane gently.
"But who locked the door?" asked the Vicar.