“I should think it is,” says I, with an air of simple candour. “I would not use one else. You see my papa, the Earl, objects to these moonlight trips of mine. I thus use carpet slippers that he shall not hear me pass his door or walk across the hall. And I must implore you, sir, not to betray me in this matter.”
Here I set such a wistful, pleading gaze upon the Captain that it nearly knocked him backwards from the ladder.
“My dearest lady!” and he laid his hand upon his heart.
Meanwhile I had not forgotten my design.
“I daresay,” says I, “you would like to have one glimpse, sir, of Luna and her satellites. I have an apparatus with me. See, here’s my telescope. A little darling of a creature, is it not?”
Twisting half round to where the prisoner was, I began to fumble in my pocket for it. Of course I must bend my head to do so.
“When he leaves the ladder,” says I to the lad, in the softest whisper ever used, “leap out and down it like the wind; then it’s neck and heels to Scotland!”
Thereupon I took the file forth from my cloak, and so disposed my hands about it that in the insufficient light it became a very creditable telescope. I fitted the point into my eye, and jutted forth the handle with great nicety.
“Venus is in trine,” says I, with this strange telescope trained upon the stars.
“And how is Mars to-night?” says the Captain, with a gallant interest.