"What do you want?" whispered Cricklewick, angrily, passing close to the curtains and cocking his ear without appearing to do so.
"Come out here," whispered Julia.
"Don't hiss like that! I can't come."
"You must. It's something dreadful."
"Is it McFaddan's wife?" whispered Cricklewick, in sudden dismay.
"Worse than that. The police."
"My Gawd!"
The butler looked wildly about. He caught McFaddan's eye, and signalled him to come at once. If it was the police, McFaddan was the man to handle them. All the princes and lords and counts in New York combined were not worth McFaddan's little finger in an emergency like this.
At the top of the steps Julia explained to the perspiring Cricklewick and the incredulous McFaddan.
"They're at the gate down there, two of 'em in full uniform,—awful looking things,—and a man in a silk hat and evening dress. He says if we don't let him up he'll have the joint pulled."