"Now we're all right," he cheerfully said. "Take it easy, and don't worry."
"But I can't help worrying!" the small person objected, clutching the lapels of his dress coat with importunate hands. "How can I, if I'm going to be arrested and put in jail and brought up in a police court with all these awful people? The shame of it! the disgrace!"
"If you'll trust to me," Lanyard suggested, "I think I can promise you none of those calamities will happen."
"But how can you——?"
"I'm sure I know a way . . ."
As he spoke, with no warning whatsoever the house from cellar to roof was drenched with darkness absolute.
This thing befell with fine dramatic force. Where there had been deafening hubbub and confusion to confound the readiest, a lull of a long moment succeeded, during which every voice was hushed and nobody stirred. In this breathing-spell Lanyard found time to surmise what had happened: that some creature of Morphew's, acting possibly on inspiration but more probably in conformance with a plan preconcerted against such emergency, had disconnected the master-switch of the electric lighting system. . . . But Folly McFee whimpered in new fright and caught him closer to her; and in another breath the turmoil revived in redoubled volume.
Lanyard lifted his hands to the woman's and gently disengaged them.
"There, Mrs. McFee! don't be alarmed. They've simply shut off the lights to give the people the police are after a chance to escape. If you will calm yourself and have a bit of faith in me, I'll get you out of this in a jiffy, and no harm done."
"But my wrap! I can't go without my wrap, I'd catch my death! And my handbag, too—I left it on the table——!"