"Be silent. Do as I bid you. It is an emergency. Drop those things and go!
Do you hear, imbecile?"
Completely cowed and cheated, the man obeyed literally, letting his burden of garments fall to the floor and bounding hurriedly up the stairs.
Another flight was negotiated without misadventure; on this floor as well servants were flitting busily to and fro, but none favoured the adventurer with the least attention.
Midway down the third flight he pulled up to one side of the landing, and reconnoitred. It was on the next floor below, the first above the street, that Ekstrom had stopped. But in what quarter thereof? The exigency forbade the risk of one false turn. If Lanyard were to take Ekstrom unawares it must be at the first cast.
From the ground floor came semi-coherent snatches of surly comment, like growls of a thunderstorm passing off into the distance:
"At a time such as this…."
"… Secret Service snapping at our heels …"
"… base on the Vineyard discovered …"
"… Au Printemps raided, Sophie Weringrode under arrest. God knows whether she will hold her tongue!"
"Trust her! But this ass …"