“Everything now depends upon whether the gentleman who is patrolling the passage between the gardens has witnessed this disgusting fracas,” said Elk, dusting himself. “If he was standing at the entrance to the passage he has seen it, and there’s going to be trouble.”
Apparently the patrol was in the alleyway itself and had heard no sound. Creeping to the entrance, Elk listened and presently heard the soft pad of footsteps. He signalled to Dick to remain where he was, and slipped into the passage, walking softly, but not so softly that the man on guard at the back gate of Mr. Maitland’s house did not hear him.
“Who’s that?” he demanded in a gruff voice.
“It’s me,” whispered Elk. “Don’t make so much noise.”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” said the other in a tone of authority. “I told you to stay under the lamp-post——”
Elk’s eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, and now he saw his man.
“There are two queer-looking people in the street: I wanted you to see them,” he whispered.
All turned now upon the discipline which the Frogs maintained.
“Who are they?” asked the unknown in a low voice.
“A man and a woman,” whispered Elk.