Moving with exceptional velocity, Mr Craigie made straight for the lane beyond the garden. The brown suit-case had disappeared.
"Well, I'm jiggered!" murmured the baffled humourist.
Very slowly and soberly he returned to the house, lit a fresh pipe, and steadied his nerves with a glass of grog. When Mrs Craigie returned, she found him sufficiently revived to jest again, though in a minor key.
"To think of the girl having the impudence to make me carry her luggage out of the house for her!" said he. "Gad, but it was a clever dodge to get clear with no one suspecting her! Well, anyhow, my reputation is safe again at last, Selina."
"Your reputation!" replied Mrs Craigie in a withering voice. "For what? Not for common-sense anyhow!"
"You're flustered, my dear," said the laird easily. "It's a habit women get into terrible easy. You should learn a lesson from Miss Eileen Holland. Dashed if I ever met a cooler hand in my life!"
"And what do you mean to do about it?" demanded his wife.
"Do?" asked Mr Craigie, mildly surprised. "Well, we might leave the pantry window open at night, so that she can get in again if she's wanting to; or——"
"It's your duty to inform the authorities, Richard!"
"Duty?" repeated the laird, still more surprised. "Fancy me starting to do my duty at my time of life!"