"And now," said the lady again, "what are you going to do? Send for a policeman?"
It was the obvious course, but Robert on a sudden felt that it would be impossible. When he had valiantly left his bed, seized his weapon and prepared to capture a burglar or two, he had in mind merely the vision of an ordinary hooligan. The reality upset him. He needed time to adjust his ideas.
"I suppose I must," he said apologetically. "I am exceedingly sorry, but really, you know——"
"Oh, we quite understand," returned Beatrice (for of course it was she and Lionel) with a frank camaraderie. "It must be a painful position for you as well as for us. But perhaps, before deciding, you would like to hear the reason of our visit?"
His eyes brightened; he grasped an idea.
"Excellent!" he said. "I have the satisfaction of having frustrated your design, and honestly I am not in love with the notion of giving you in charge. Besides ..." he hesitated as if ashamed, but decided on candor, "my life is a trifle dull, and if you can tell me a really interesting tale, well ..."
"Sir, you are a sportsman," observed Lionel; and Beatrice added persuasively, "A perfect dear!"
"Flattery is useless," he replied. "I don't want that. Tell me a good tale, and perhaps ..."
"I will tell you all," said Beatrice. "If we were captured I had meant to keep silence; but your generous offer compels a change of plan. You shall have a frank truthful——"
"I do not insist on truth," said Robert, stroking his nose, "but it must be interesting." He stopped, aghast at his own depravity. Then he laughed gently. "Morality is hard to achieve at this hour. But come! A good tale!"