“It is very evident,” I thought, “that Lister does not know who lives here;” and I laughed to myself as I quietly determined to put my plan in force.
That evening, while Hallett was busy in his attic, slaving away with redoubled energy at his model, giving it what he looked upon as the final touches before proceeding with the patent, I went down as soon as I heard Revitts come in, his broad face expanding with pleasure as I followed him below to his own particular sanctuary, where, while he was enjoying his after-tea pipe, I opened my business.
“Revitts,” I said, “I’m going to take you into my confidence, and ask you to keep faith.”
“Which you may be sure I shall do, Master Antony, if so be I can.”
“Well, you can, Bill,” I replied; and I proceeded to tell him how Linny was annoyed.
“That’s very unpleasant,” he said thoughtfully; “but is it by that same chap?”
“Yes.”
“That’ll do,” he said, drawing a long breath; “and lookye here, Antony, my young friend, I’m sergeant, and have to set an example now to them as is under—them, I mean—no, I don’t—I mean those as—who—are under me—that’s right! One’s obliged to be particler now. Use of the truncheon forbidden, except when obliged; but if I do meet, that fellow annoying Miss Linny, I shall be obliged to give him a topper—a hangel couldn’t help it.”
“No, no, Bill—no, Mr Sergeant,” I began.
“Stow that, Antony, no larks. Bill, please, as afore.”