The constable positively jumped. He gaped on all sides in real terror. He, too, had heard hair-raising tales of Owd Ben.
“Go home!” hissed Furneaux, leaning out.
Then the other looked up.
“Oh, it’s you, sir!” he gasped, sighing with relief.
“Man, you’ve had the closest shave of your life! There’s a fellow below there who shoots at sight.”
“But I’m on duty, sir.”
“You’ll be in Kingdom Come if you gaze in at that window. Be off!”
“I—”
“Robinson, you and I will quarrel if you don’t do as I bid you. And that would be a pity, because I want to inform Mr. Fowler that he has a particularly smart man in Steynholme.”
“Very well, sir, if you’re satisfied, I must be.”