It was a hot, soundless night. The atmosphere hung round them like a heavy garment saturated with moisture. Every sound seemed to be magnified. As he finished speaking, Bindle's quick ear detected a footstep inside the garden. Bending down he whispered to Guggers:
"Start the car, sir, there's someone comin'. Come along, miss," he added.
"Ethel!" Three hearts gave a great leap at the sound of a harsh, uncompromising voice from almost beneath them.
"Ethel, where are you? You will catch your death of cold walking about the garden at this time of night. Come in at once!"
It was Lady Knob-Kerrick. There was no mistaking her disapproving voice. Bindle grinned as he recollected the inglorious figure she had cut at the Temperance Fête.
"Ethel, where are you?" The voice cut sharply through the still air.
"Steady, sir," whispered Bindle to Dick Little, who had lifted Miss Kerrick off the wall.
"I'll keep the ole gal jawin'. Tell ole Spit-and-Speak to get off quietly."
"Strint!" Lady Knob-Kerrick's voice again rang out. "Strint, where are you?"
Bindle heard the sound of feet hastening down the path. He was standing on the wall, grasping with one hand the top of the ladder used by Miss Kerrick, which reached some three feet above the top of the wall. He had taken the precaution of putting his uniform in his pocket "in case I gets nabbed," as he explained to Dick Little.