“He may be in his room at the back,” observed Dr. Knox. And he rang again.
Presently, after a spell of at least ten minutes’ waiting, and no end of ringing, an upper window was opened and a head appeared—that of the hairdresser.
“Whatever’s the matter?” called out he, seeing us all below. “It’s not fire, is it?”
“I am sorry to disturb you, Pink,” called back Dr. Knox. “It is Captain Collinson I want. Is he in, do you know?”
“Yes, sir; he came in about twenty minutes ago, and somebody with him, for I heard him talking,” answered Pink. “He must be in his sitting-room, if he is not gone to bed.”
“There is a light in the room, but I don’t think he can be in. I have thrown up some gravel, and he does not answer.”
“I’ll come down and see, sir.”
Pink, the most obliging little man in the world, descended to the captain’s room and thence to us at the door. Captain Collinson was not in. He had gone out again, and left his gas alight.
“You say some one came in with him, Pink. Was it a young lad?”
“I can’t tell, sir. I heard the captain’s latch-key, and I heard him come on upstairs, talking to somebody; but I was just dropping off to sleep, so did not take much notice.”