“They've been deserted twenty years now, since the great sickness.”
“Yes?” said the captain, carelessly. “But where can she have got to?”
“Well. It beats me,” Mr. Jermyn replied. “But perhaps she ran along the wall to the end, then jumped down into the lane. That's the only thing she could have done. By the way, boy, you were shot at. Were you hit?”
“No,” I answered. “But I got jolly near it. The bullet went just by me.”
“Ah,” he said. “Take this. You'll have to be armed in future.”
He handed me a beautiful little double-barrelled pocket pistol. “Be careful,” he said. “It's loaded. Put it in your pocket. You musn't be seen carrying arms here. That would never do.”
“Boy,” said the captain. “D'ye think you could shin up that water-spout, so as to look over the parapet there, on to the leads of the houses?”
“Yes,” I said. “I think I could, from the top of the wall.”
“Why,” Mr. Jermyn said. “She couldn't have got up there.”
“An active woman might,” the captain said. “You see, the water-spout is only six feet long from the wall to the eaves. There's good footing on the brackets. It's three quick steps. Then one vigorous heave over the parapet. There you are, snug as a purser's billet, out of sight.”