A savage growling, something between a mastiff and a man, outside the door, here interrupted the visitor, and a hand was heard fumbling about the latch. As the hand seemed to lack skill to open the door the foot considerately took the duty in hand and burst it open, whereupon the huge frame of Ned Frog stumbled into the room and fell prostrate at the feet of Sir Richard, who rose hastily and stepped back.
The pugilist sprang up, doubled his ever ready fists, and, glaring at the knight, asked savagely:
“Who the—”
He was checked in the utterance of a ferocious oath, for at that moment he encountered the grave eye of Number 666.
Relaxing his fists he thrust them into his coat-pockets, and, with a subdued air, staggered out of the house.
“My ’usband, sir,” said Mrs Frog, in answer to her visitor’s inquiring glance.
“Oh! is that his usual mode of returning home?”
“No, sir,” answered Bobby from his corner, for he was beginning to be amused by the succession of surprises which Wealth was receiving, “’e don’t always come in so. Sometimes ’e sends ’is ’ead first an’ the feet come afterwards. In any case the furniture’s apt to suffer, not to mention the in’abitants, but you’ve saved us to-night, sir, or, raither, Mr Scott ’as saved both us an’ you.”
Poor little Di, who had been terribly frightened, clung closer to her father’s arm on hearing this.
“Perhaps,” said Sir Richard, “it would be as well that we should go, in case Mr Frog should return.”