“How came you to be so, so negligent, officer, as to let your prisoner pass you?” inquired Squire Humphreys, one of the magistrates, who had remained in the house all night, because he was a friend and neighbor of the late Lord Leaton.
“As Heaven hears me, your worship, she never got out through this door! I never left my post for a single minute during the night, but stood leaning up against the door itself; so that even if I had dropped asleep, and the door could have been opened, I should have fallen down and been roused by the fall. But I never closed my eyes during the whole night, your worship,” said the policeman.
“This is most wonderful,” continued the magistrate, who, with the doctor, made a careful examination of the room, including the fastenings of the window-shutters, which were all found secure.
“Has any one questioned my comrade, your worship?” inquired the policeman, respectfully.
“Sure enough no one has done so,” said the doctor, going and knocking at the door of the little dressing-room.
The officer on guard there unlocked the door, and stood face to face with the doctor.
“Your prisoner has escaped! How came you to be so careless as to let her pass?” demanded the doctor.
“Pass! On my honor, sir, no one has passed me the whole night. I have stood with my back leaning against the door and the key in my pocket all the time,” said the officer, in astonishment.
“This is most inexplicable! Did neither of you hear any noise in the night?” inquired the magistrate.
“None whatever, your worship,” said the first officer.