"Children, my lady?"
"Aye—both of you! He so wilfully wayward and you so helpless. Prithee go fetch me Mrs. Agatha."
The Sergeant started. "Why mam—my lady, I——" he stammered, flushing, "'tis so early and she asleep and I—she being asleep, d'ye see, 'twouldn't be—that is I——"
"Sergeant," sighed my lady, "bring hither the ladder like a good child. I'll e'en wake her myself."
So the ladder was brought, the Sergeant turned his back and in the twinkling of an eye my lady was over the wall and walking across the dewy grass beside him; reaching the house he pointed to a latticed casement above their heads.
"'Tis rather high, Sergeant, but a handful of gravel——"
"Gravel, my lady?"
"Gravel, child—launched into the air and truly aimed——"
"But mam——" The Sergeant glanced from the loose gravel underfoot to the open lattice above and flushed. "Zounds mam, I—never did such a thing in all my days——"
"Then 'tis time you began, you're quite old enough—gravel, Sergeant—aimed carefully!"